


Star Light, Star Bright

by SmashQ



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:45:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmashQ/pseuds/SmashQ
Summary: Every tournament, Master Hand likes making something new and eye-catching. Something interesting. And what could be more interesting than watching someone rise from the bottom? Experimental OC Insert.





	1. Dreams Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I know the stigma these kind of stories have. Little to no plot, OCs that exist only to goof off with the Smash cast, OoC-ness, and so on. Super Smash Bros. is a fighting game with two adventure modes (one having an actual story) over four (soon to be five) games. There isn’t a whole lot to build on. It falls on the writer to make something solid for their OC to stand and walk on. Not an easy feat by any means.
> 
> That said, this is an idea I’ve been sitting on for years (since something like 2006 if the old file versions are anything to go by), but never really had the motivation to get it off the ground after the first revamp. How do you shove an OC into Super Smash Bros.? Maybe it goes something like this.
> 
> This is complete self-indulgent silliness and a means to have something else to do other than my main fic. Going to try deconstructing a couple things. Takes place around Brawl. Updates will be infrequent.

I’m not entirely sure what registered first. A cool wind blew past, the grass was itchy, and there was so much yelling, screaming, and exploding a ways off.

The crack of thunder definitely caught my attention.

I bolted straight up, discombobulated. I wasn’t at home, curled up under my nice, warm blankets. I hadn’t gone camping, and yet somehow, in the middle of the night, I had been dropped off in the wilderness. Trees were sparse, but the grass seemed to just keep going.

My brain stopped at that red flag. Where were the mountains? There had always been mountains near my town. We lived in a valley for goodness sakes, how was this even possible?

Then I turned my head to where the commotion was coming from. My jaw dropped. I’d been wrong. I hadn’t just been dropped off in the middle of nowhere. I had been dropped off in the middle of nowhere outside the gates of a flipping _mansion_. At three stories tall, painted a shiny white, and about four times as wide as my home, it made an imposing picture. Green grass rolled past the tall iron bars of the gate, past the brightly colored flowerbeds and beautiful fountains, and coming to a halt at the front steps. The gate itself was split in two, and wide open for any passerby to wander in along the white stone path. It began right at the gates and was wide enough for four grown men to walk side-by-side without squishing up against each other.

Above the rooftop though, rising out in the distance, was the snow-capped peak of a single mountain. It was more bizarre and mind-boggling than comforting to see it, and I wondered what on earth it could mean. Singular large mountains like that didn’t just exist, right?

Then I remembered Mount Fuji and promptly threw that thought out the window. It was still strange to look at, though, and I couldn’t pin a place in the country where it could be. Where I could be.

Somewhere behind the mansion, the noises kept coming. There were shouts, there were cheers. But above all, there was music. It was somewhat muted from being a ways away, but the jaunty tune of a Mario song was always recognizable. More so, I knew where I’d heard it before. Playing Super Smash Bros. 64 and Melee over the weekends made it easy to memorize the tunes.

Getting up, I took a look around, and tried not to panic. Aside from the path leading up to the mansion’s front steps, there was nothing to suggest that people frequented this place. There was no street, no sidewalk, no stores, no cars, no _tire tracks_. Only a grassy field that never seemed to end. There was nothing on the horizon. There was no way of knowing how I got there other than being carried a long distance, all without waking up to boot.

It had to be a dream. Nothing else could explain how I slept through a kidnapping, or how only a single mountain could be seen anywhere from here. It wasn’t the first time I had realized I was dreaming something silly, and it was best just to roll with things while I still could.

Resigned to the oddball of a place I was in, I pushed myself to my feet and decided to see where the cheering was coming from. It must have been a party or a tournament or something, because the noises just wouldn’t let up. It sounded a lot like someone had hooked up some bass boosters or some heavy duty stereo system, because I could feel the ground slightly rumble beneath my feet.

As I walked up to the front double doors of the mansion, I took in the decoration of the garden. On either side of the main path were two shorter walkways that led around two identical fountains. Each one had a trio of dolphin statues spraying water up and over themselves, cascading down several tiers to the bottom basin. Little round disks were spread out on the bottom, etched with something or other, but I couldn’t tell through the falling water. Judging by the insignia on the doors, though, I had to guess that it was the Smash Bros. logo. I knew that slashed circle symbol anywhere. A big fan lived here, maybe?

The garden really was beautiful, with the rose bushes, tall trees, and a colorful spread of flowers. It was all...what was the word? Parallel? Mirrored? Both sides of the path seemed alike, with anything on one side being the same on the other. It was well maintained. I sorely wished I had a camera. Not that I had one at home, but having one now would be nice.

I waved my hand around, willing for a camera to appear. Flailing both hands didn’t help. When nothing happened, I guessed that it was something I couldn’t control and stopped.

I looked around, noting how often the Smash symbol appeared. It wasn’t only on the mansion doors, but on the front gate, too. The flowers were arranged into circles, with red and white ones filling in the classic outline. Moving closer to the mansion, I climbed up the steps and found a large welcome mat with the circle on it as well.

It was weird to think about for a second, but then I dismissed it. Huge mansion, the sounds of Smash Bros. Melee. Having the symbol prominently displayed only seemed natural.

Maybe this place was mine? It was impressive, and there had to be some reason I’d woken up where I did. Or perhaps I had been invited to visit the place?

Well, whatever the case, I figured it’d be better to get to the party. I gripped the wavy handle of one of the doors, turned it down, and pulled it open.

Inside was the most amazingly decked out lobby I had ever been in. The first thing that grabbed me was the sheer size of the place. You could park a car in there and still have room to easily walk around it.

The stairs leading to the second floor curved and split around the central doors in front of me, then united above it, going forwards and up. I guessed that they led deeper into the mansion. To either side of the stairs were statues, one of Mario wielding a hammer and another of Donkey Kong beating his chest. Both were a shiny gold and placed on waist-high pedestals.

When I looked higher up I found that the ceiling of the first floor was gone. Instead, you could overlook the lobby from the second floor, kept safe from falling by a pretty solid-looking wooden banister.

The pictures on the walls were gorgeous. These weren’t your everyday dentist office artworks. They were fantastically painted pictures of villages, a castle, a forest clearing, and some odd jungle or other. I didn’t even care that I couldn’t make out the kind of plants in the last one. It just looked so good!

Every time I turned around, it seemed that I found something new. The name plaques on the statues; more doors to the left and right; the absolute absurdness of the size of the windows; the Smash symbol emblazoned on the rug below my feet; the chickens in the village painting; the change in the now-faintly playing music; the bits of confetti on the floor; the podium to my side; the faintly glowing arrow by the doors under the stairs-

Wait a minute.

I turned my head again. Yep. Giant glowing arrow pointing further into the mansion. Someone was getting impatient, it seemed.

Foregoing aimless exploration for the time being, I decided to see where the arrow led me. I pushed the decorative doors open, and found myself in a hallway. More paintings adorned the walls, and I passed small tables with the odd knick knack on them. One table even had a small replica of a Piranha Plant sticking out of a green pipe.

The hallway was entirely too wide for any one person, or even two. It was more than a little unnerving. I had been used to halls just wide enough for students to pass through without making an impassible sea of bodies. To have such wide halls where you lived didn’t make any sense.

I wondered why anyone would want to walk alone down such lonely halls, then remembered how many people could maybe live in such a huge place. My guess was twenty at best, maybe a few more. I'd be meeting the occupants soon, hopefully, so perhaps they would be able to give the actual number for that.

Little red arrows lit the way. The hall turned a few times, and quite a few doors were ignored until I found myself in another wide open area. It was somewhat smaller than the lobby, and aside from the podium and stairs, the areas were pretty identical. Here though the two golden statues were different. On my right was an armored warrior with an arm cannon. On my left, a small creature with strips of bronze on its back, tail, and the tips of its ears. Samus and Pikachu.

The music outside swelled. It wasn’t as muffled anymore, and I itched to find out more. I practically flew over to the back doors and wrenched them open. The sounds and the music immediately swept over me, giving me chills. It was nostalgia and excitement bundled together, making me explode with glee.

Or it could have been the rumbling again. It ran up my legs and I swore I could feel my teeth chatter from the vibrations.

I wasn’t quite paying attention to that, though. I had expected some swanky backyard party, the type with white-cloth tables, huge buffets, and swans made out of ice. Some trimmed hedges here and there and a high white fence enclosing it all.

What I got was something wholly different.

A stone path led off the back patio, straight through yet another immaculate garden before splitting into three more paths. The middle one kept going straight on, going through an arched passageway in some sort of white circular structure. It was where the sounds were coming from, definitely. The other two paths split left and right, curving around the middle structure and disappearing out of sight.

I practically leaped down the patio stairs, giddy as I was to join in whatever was going on. I’d never been one for parties but there was something about Smash Bros. that just brought people together. Before tearing their tentative friendships apart, of course.

As I got closer to whatever the building was, I found myself slowing down. Off to the left a stone path branched out from the circle, leading to what looked like a castle in miniature. At least, a miniature castle compared to ones that antagonistic kings seemed to have. It didn’t have any banners that I could see, but the tops of the towers had black bands around them, right below the ‘crown’. I couldn’t resist smiling. A memory of a flying Clown Car descending with master and princess came unbidden. The castle had to be Bowser’s.

Off to the right was a forest. The trees were bunched together so well that I couldn’t tell how far in it went. I wasn’t sure how I had missed that before. Perhaps because it went further back rather than stretching out more to the right. East? West? I couldn’t decide.

At some point I had stopped walking. The music had switched again, this time to something more playful and whimsical. Saria’s Song, although there was no telling which stage was being used. As I tried figuring it out, I moved forward. I walked through the passageway, and found myself staring at an open door theater. Plastered on the back of the theater was either an enormous television or a projector of some kind. The screen was easily a story high, and wide enough to warrant some space between it and the viewer. Unless all you wanted to do was stare at a splotch of color.

I must have stood there for a minute or two, watching the most chaotic battle of Super Smash Bros. I had ever seen. I didn’t recognize the selected stage: a forest that would have been otherwise peaceful anywhere else. If I had to hazard a guess, I would’ve said it was somewhere in the Lost Woods. Leaves drifted through the air of the bright and colorful place, somewhat at odds to Mario throwing Bowser into a tree. The trunk snapped, sending the whole thing crashing down along with Kirby, who suddenly did not have a height advantage anymore. A missile zoomed over the star warrior’s head, missed Mario, and exploded in Bowser’s face. A hammer met the famous plumber’s face, and Samus charged her arm cannon.

Then Pikachu leaped into the fray.

“What?!” My jaw dropped open. A quick ‘pika’ heralded a thunderbolt that fried Bowser, his nemesis, and Kirby, but left the Pokémon open to a quick blast from the mercenary.

It took a moment to realize it was me who had yelled. Five Smashers. In one battle. It just... It just didn’t happen!

I turned my head to look at the other side of the screen. My jaw hit the ground. Up in the thick branches of a tree Falco and Peach exchanged kicks and slaps, occasionally rolling or dodging in an attempt to gain an edge. Jigglypuff was somewhere above the stage in a microscope lens, floating along. Mario and Kirby were caught up in Pikachu’s headbutting, Jigglypuff rolled out in midair, Falco dodged, Peach didn’t, and the princess wound up being kicked upside the head by Samus as she came tumbling down into the center of the action.

Bowser managed to escape Pikachu’s pummeling, jumped high into the air, then slammed back down to the ground in a move that had Mario flying off to the side with an anguished cry.

“Mario defeated!” shouted the announcer. Falco came down, twisting his legs as he fell towards Jigglypuff. Landing, he threw a gun at her, and went in for a quick dash. Samus was off to the side, running for a Poké Ball that had spawned in at some point. Bowser grabbed Peach, hoisted her over his shoulder, and both were hit by another thunderbolt. Kirby sent off an air cutter-

“Jigglypuff defeated!”

-and was hit in the back by a Poké Ball. Out popped Unown and the match was over shortly thereafter. A hoard of flying letters sent every other fighter flying, leaving Samus as the victor.

I clapped enthusiastically as the victory screen came up, the sounds of others joining in surrounding me. Whoever played her was good. And quite lucky.

It was at the moment something clicked. I didn’t see a game system or people with controllers. Somewhere off to my right a deep grunting over-road the applause. What the?

Curious, I turned around, and looked up.

At that moment several things hit me.

The bleachers behind me were almost full.

Of course nobody would sit by the screen, it had horrible seating.

And a familiar ape in a red tie was heartily beating his chest, hollering.

I blinked. Clapping next to him was Diddy Kong as well as Kirby, Yoshi, Pichu, and a Squirtle. Why a random Squirtle was out and about outside of its Poké Ball, I had no clue.

My brain stopped functioning long enough for gentle humming to fill the area. I numbly looked back at the stage. The television was off, and standing all together were the Smashers who had just fought. Even as I stared, Samus materialized on a metallic pad that I had looked over earlier. Bowser stood off to the side, huffing while Peach giggled next to Mario. She slipped off a gold bracelet and took an identical one from her hero. The Pokémon and Kirby were babbling in a conversation only they could understand, while Falco was already walking away from the group.

Seeing as I was definitely still asleep and would probably wake up soon, I decided to make the most out of the situation.

I mean, Falco was right there! Ace pilot of Star Fox, former bandit, professional cool guy, and my preferred fighter of choice. Fox had nothing on Falco’s ability to grab mad air. And I would never get another chance to talk to him!

“Hey, Falco!” someone called. I twisted around, spotting the team leader himself getting up from a crouch in front of the stands. He walked over to his buddy, smiling and waving a hand. “Good fight out there. So, what did you think of the eight-man melee?”

I couldn’t make out what he was saying after that. The menu music was loud, but not blaring thankfully. It was just enough that you had to raise your voice to be heard. Didn’t quite know how the music was louder elsewhere, though.

Fox _and_ Falco. My mind went back to the days spent blasting ships, vindictively destroying weird robot bugs, and memorizing cheesy lines. I found myself grinning, teeth displayed, but didn’t care. I jogged up to the side of the stage where Falco had stepped off.

“Hi!” I coughed, clearing my throat. That had been way too squeaky. “Hi!” I tried again, giving a little wave this time. Better. “You guys are Fox and Falco, right? Of the Star Fox team?”

“Uh, yeah?” Fox answered. He crossed his arms. “We are. Who are you?”

I was internally screaming. Squealing audibly would probably not have been looked favorably upon.

“Ven! Ven Brooks! It’s such a – so cool to actually meet you! I’m a big fan, and the whole adventure on Dinosaur Planet was so cool!” Fox scratched the back of his head, a faint smile on his face. I turned to Falco. “And your piloting skills are awesome! Nobody outflies you in the skies! Or space. You saved his neck on Dinosaur Planet and you know how to blast open secrets like nobody else!”

Because that’s what he did in Star Fox 64. Peppy found weak points and gave tips, Slippy was in charge of health gauges, and Falco found secrets. He also tended to go through harder routes in any given stage. A real challenge seeker, that one.

I still refused to believe that Assault and Command had ever happened. Just no.

Falco huffed a laugh. “Heh. Yeah, that’s right.” He pointed a feathered thumb at himself. “Ain’t nobody better in the skies than me!”

“Real humble, Falco,” Fox muttered. He put a hand on one hip, and turned his attention back to me. “I don’t think I’ve seen your face around here before. Where are you from?”

“Earth,” I immediately replied. “We’re not that advanced yet – we don’t even travel past our own solar system – but we know about you! Not everything, but we know about -” I stopped. Saying we knew about Star Fox 64 seemed too weird. There was another name for it, but in all the excitement, I had forgotten. “Well,” I tried again, “We know about the whole Andross thing, like when you guys were called to Corneria and then went all the way across the Lylat System to take down Andross on Venom. It kind of varies how it went depending on who you talk to.” I waved my hand back and forth like a see-saw. There were multiple routes, and it was no use bringing up just one. “But you guys kicked his butt and won! You got back to Corneria, and General Pepper was going to offer you all a place in the Cornerian Army, but you said ‘No thanks. We do things our own way’ which you totally do! Then Falco left, and jobs dried up, and Dinosaur Planet happened, and it was so cool-!”

By then I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, a smile threatening to split my face apart. Star Fox Adventures was too long to sum up quickly with how I was rambling. It may have been very different from the rest of the series, but there was something about slowing down and exploring a planet that got to me. There was magic, ancient ruins, tests of skill and strength, cool dinosaur designs, and _an utter copout of a final boss._ Still liked it, but Andross could go suck a bag of salted slugs.

Falco was shaking his head while Fox chuckled. “It looks like you know your stuff,” the team leader said. “Andross’ assault on the galaxy was called the Lylat Wars actually, and Dinosaur Planet is called Sauria, but aside from that and the a-”

Before he could finish that sentence, a brief but fierce gale blew through the theater, dust and dirt kicking up and getting in my eyes. I tried covering my face, finding instead that dirt that gotten into my mouth. I could barely hear anything over the wind save for the Star Fox pilots’ initial grunts of surprise. When the rush of wind abated, I heard Donkey Kong, Yoshi, the Pokémon, and others making sounds of distress.

“Sorry, everybody!” came a new voice. My brain froze up again because _how_. “Didn’t mean to cause a literal dust storm!”

I knew that voice. I knew it even if it had changed since almost a decade prior.

_Say something! You fake hedgehog!_

As well as all the stupid lines and the odd interruptions and script clashes the game sometimes had.

I folded up my shirt collar and tried wiping the dust and dirt away on the cleaner side. Periodically I spat out grit that nearly coated my tongue. The whole time, people kept talking or coughing, overlapping each other. A few voices stuck out of the clamor.

“Ugh. You have no manners whatsoever.” A deep, regal baritone. My spine tingled like static electricity had crept up it. I tentatively pegged it as Ganondorf.

“Mario?” Italian accent. Luigi.

“Right-a here!” Mario ohmygosh!

“Chu! Pi chuchu!”

“Popo?” A sweet, unfamiliar voice. It could only belong to Nana.

“Why you little rat! Wait till I get my hands on you-!” A gruff, and very loud voice. Almost kind of growly.

A heavy thud came after. Wasn’t hard to guess that he had fallen over.

Finally, I could see. Blinking, I took in the form of a blue blur who was, well...the blue blur.

“What the-?!” I moved my jaw, willing more words to pop up. My mouth had gotten ahead of my mouth, leaving me speechless.

Then both were caught up.

“You’re Sonic!” I blurted out. “What are _you_ doing here?!”

The fastest thing alive turned his head in my direction.

“Making a mess of things,” Falco snarked behind me.

Sonic waved. “Oh, hey! I got invited to the Smash Brothers Tournament. Free food, free bed, and no Eggman.” He raised three fingers, having ticked off each point. “It’s a vacation from crazy take-over-the-world schemes if I ever heard one.”

My jaw refused to rise up from the floor. “B-but! You’re from Sega!” I pointed a finger at him. “You can’t be here! It’s impossible!”

Sonic tilted his head. “Uhh… Well, I am. Don’t know what to tell ya. I got an invite, same as everybody else.”

I stood there, gaping like a fish, trying and failing, to say something. This was impossible. Like I said, Sonic was from _Sega_ , not Nintendo. He was from a third party. How the heck did it even make sense for him to be here?

“Anyway,” the hedgehog said, politely ignoring my staring, “Tails told me that everyone’s supposed to gather here for some reason.”

“Right,” Fox said behind me. “Master Hand should be showing up anytime now.”

I whirled around, spinning on one foot. The ground was surprisingly smooth.

“Master Hand?” I asked. Frantic energy engulfed my words. “He’s here? He’s coming here?!”

“Well, gee,” said Falco, sarcasm coating his words, “I wonder why the big gloating hand would show up to his own tournament.” I may have done that ‘pull muscles to one side of your face for a stern half-frown’ thing. Watching others be on the receiving end of Falco’s jabs was different from being directly subjected to it. It was annoying, but not overtly so.

Oh hell. Was this what Leon felt whenever Star Wolf clashed with Star Fox? Only worse?

Fox rolled his eyes. “Yeah. It looks like this is everyone,” he said, “unless he has some special challengers he’s not telling us about.”

Falco’s eyes flitted above my head, likely taking a look at the crowd.“Way more people this time around,” he commented. “I don’t see Peach or pyro boy. Mario’s missing, too.”

“Maybe they’ll be out later,” Fox said with a shrug. I turned back to the veterans and newcomers. Spotting who had returned and who didn’t was a little difficult because _holy cow they weren’t kidding._ I counted twenty people, easy. I missed our boy Roy, and unless he was hiding, Mewtwo was also a no show. I couldn’t find the Squirtle for some reason, and this angel – a literal angel with wings and a toga – was sitting up on the roof above the main entrance.

If my brain kept freezing, it would eventually break. Where had the angel come from?

The music dimmed. Craning my neck, I found that the fighter select screen hadn’t changed. It was minimal, consisting only of eight empty slots. Slowly though, the screen faded to black, only to have the classic Smash symbol light it up in a burst of fire. The camera zoomed in on the circle, and the screen turned white.

Then the music started up. It began low, with tubas or something, then reached higher with a harp and ringing bells and trumpets. A sharp clash of cymbals cued an entire orchestra to join in. It had this bold and daring feeling to it, and a chorus of people singing, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Something about papas, mamas, and four people. It was the most confusing thing I had ever heard.

But what got me smiling were the clips being shown. Classic one-on-one, two versus two, and free-for-all battles starring practically everyone who had ever been in a Smash Bros. game. You had Samus blasting both the Ice Climbers and Pikachu off-screen at once; Captain Falcon timing a Falcon Punch just right so Donkey Kong in freefall was caught before he hit the floor; Mario and Luigi tossing a bom-omb between them to hit Link in the back; Sheik throwing a Poké Ball and having Porygon come right out to K.O. Marth. Everything was fast, furious, and breath-taking. No cutesy Yoshis hatching from eggs, no bits of the fighters’ homes or history being showed, though I still like those sort of things. It was a display of strategy and skill from years past. And it was glorious.

At the end, a voice boomed out ‘Super Smash Brothers’ like it was going out of style. The applause and cheers that accompanied it gave me such a rush. I had never felt anything like it before in my life. I didn’t have a word for it, but I welcomed the feeling, bouncing up and down again.

Laughter surrounded us. A deep, regal voice seemed to echo from everywhere. “Welcome, contestants,” it said, “to the third Super Smash Brothers Tournament!

“In years past the most skillful, the most resourceful, and the most daring fighters have been chosen to participate. This year is no exception. All of you have come from all walks of life. Adventurers and mercenaries, royalty and ordinary folk, adults and children, Pokémon and warriors from beyond the stars. Each of you has something special that makes you stand out in your home universes, and here, at the Super Smash Brothers Tournament, that specialty comes to the fore.

“There is no battle of blood and death, but of victory and defeat. For thirty days you have all been invited to battle to your heart’s content. During that time, you are welcome to live in the mansion or in one of the other areas available to you. Honor and glory await those who make it to the top. The tournament begins one week from now. Good luck, and good smashing!”

With that final statement, the theater fell silent. For all of two seconds. Then people started talking. They were probably deciding where to sleep tonight or who to fight first.

The voice came back, clearing his throat. “As a reminder, no kidnapping, murder attempts, or world conquering are allowed outside of battle. The eight-man melee demo is being shut down as well due to instability and processing issues. Thank you.”

The message was quick, like one of those infomercial narrators that tried getting a bunch of warnings across in five seconds. Some groaned at the announcement, most notably Bowser and Falco.

“Arg! Come on! I have a cool castle and Peach is right here! Ugh...” The Koopa King crossed his arms with a harumph, practically pouting. “No respect...”

“No eight-way free-for-all?” asked the ace pilot. “Psh. Lame.”

“Maybe next time, Falco,” said Fox.

I nodded along. The eight-man battle had been so chaotic and amazing, but if the thing was unstable then it was better to wait for whenever it got fixed. If it ever got fixed.

With all the talking going on, and some familiar faces having reappeared – Mario was hanging out with Roy – I decided to go talk to my second favorite princess ever.

Bidding half of Star Fox good-bye, I went over to where Peach was sitting with Zelda.

Right. Okay, make that my second _and_ third favorite princess ever. It was too bad that Princes Daisy was missing, otherwise it would have been perfect,

Nerves jittery, I jogged on over to meet them.


	2. Reminiscence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So hey, if I get anyone’s characterization wrong, please let me know. There’s over 35 characters between Melee and Brawl, and I haven’t played every game each one has been in. Wiki searches can only cover so much.
> 
> Also going to be up front about this: there are no romantic pairings in this fic unless it’s something canon to a Smasher’s own world. If there’s multiple choice as there is in some Fire Emblem games, it’s probably just going to be ignored. Palutena is best troll.

Somehow, I found myself in the kitchen, helping Princess Peach make a cake. She insisted on making it all from scratch, and the kitchen was fully stocked with more than enough ingredients to get started. Or so she said. My baking prowess only extended to pushing a pan of fries into the oven and waiting a half hour for them to cook.

Zelda, Ness, a Pokémon Trainer of all people, and the _literal angel_ had followed us inside to the kitchen, taking up seats on chairs pulled from the dining room. There were another two empty ones for Peach and myself, but I’d refused to sit down while still stirring up the frosting.

Every so often I’d sneak a peek at the angel, watching his reactions. It seemed like he just couldn’t sit down for more than a minute. He was pretty animated, moving his arms while talking. Also pretty in general. His face was smooth, his eyes were bright, his hair was fluffy, and his wings – _wings!_ – were pristine. Just...ugh! I smothered my confusion and internal freaking out by stirring the frosting more forcibly.

Made me wish I hadn’t missed his introduction. I’d been too distracted by Roy’s handsome, handsome face, and I was too embarrassed to ask for his name again. So I just stayed quiet.

“We thought we were gonna get to Fourside in no time!” said Ness, legs swinging in front of the chair. “But we didn’t. The bus got us as far as Dusty Dunes Desert before the world’s longest traffic jam stopped it.” He shrugged helplessly. “We had to take the long way around through the desert to get past it.”

Peach held her hands up to her mouth. “Oh my!”

The angel gasped. “Oh man! What a bummer!”

“Were you all alright?” the Mushroom Princess asked.

Ness wiggled a hand in the air. “Sort of. We had to wear wet towels on our heads the whole time to keep cool. There were buffalos, wolves, scorpions, and cute li’l UFOs everywhere, and we all ended up bein’ sunburned.” His face scrunched up at the memory. “Jeff’s face kept peeling for days.”

My own face scrunched up, too. “Oh man. I know how that feels,” I said, “but like, all over. My uncle kept calling me ‘Bubbles’.”

“That sounds awful,” commented the angel, frowning. “Did you have any sunscreen?”

I shook my head, still reeling that an actual honest-to-goodness _angel_ was right there in front of me, talking. “Nope,” I answered. “Didn’t want to wear a shirt over my swimsuit while at the beach. I thought it was stupid, and wound up looking like a lobster.” I crossed my arms and grimaced at the thought of being so badly sunburned. It took nearly a week for my skin to stop peeling. Never again.

I turned to our master chef. “Hey Peach? How much longer do I keep stirring?” I looked down pointedly at the bowl of white, fluffy frosting cradled against my stomach. She and Ness had already mixed and poured the cake mix into a pan, and put it into the oven. We were just waiting out the clock by this point.

Peach took the bowl from me, and stirred the spoon around a couple times. “It’s perfect. Thank you!”

I smiled at the praise as she put the bowl down on the counter. Princess Peach had called my frosting perfect! And it was going to go on one of her famous cakes! Dear Mario, Peach made a cake but it wasn’t for you. Signed, Ven the Frosting Maker.

Perfect Frosting Maker.

Awesome.

“Nice work!” I turned. The angel was giving me a thumb’s up. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Uh, no, I haven’t,” I replied. I couldn’t look him in the eye for long. I had no idea how to treat the situation, and settled for continuing to flail internally.

“Hey, come on!” he said. “You got the Princess Peach seal of approval! It’s okay to be proud of yourself!”

“Y-yeah!” I agreed. “Heheh...” My short-lived chuckle came out strained. I found solace in that no random guy from school would come charging in to pick at my laugh, at least.

Peach looked at the timer, and nodded. “Just a few minutes left.”

Zelda got up out of her seat. She had been mostly silent after talking to Peach about running a kingdom. I’d lost track after the conversation steered towards the logistics and resources for maintaining a royal guard. I blamed an upcoming social studies test for all that nonsense.

“Since we have a little time,” said Zelda, “why don’t I get us some tea?”

“Oh, thank you!” said Peach. She clapped her hands together. “The water should be almost ready.” Zelda left our little semi-circle to attend to the teapot on the stove. It just started to whistle when she took it off the burner.

The timing was impeccable. If she were anybody else but the Sage of Time, I would have called it luck.

“Hey, so Ness!” the angel piped up. “What happened next?”

The kid from Onett perked up. “Oh! Well, we ended up bumping into a hungry miner, and gave him some of our food. We could see the road from there and the traffic jam was all cleared. We figured we could just get some more in Fourside. He let us sleep in the shack for the night, and I got to call my mom and dad, too.” He seemed to smile more at that. Ness had mentioned early on how homesick he got after traveling for a while. I couldn’t blame him. Going off on an adventure to save the world at his age was tough enough. Knowing that he could check in on his family and hear their voices must have been a relief.

A thought occurred to me. The dream had been going on an awful long time. I half-expected my mom to walk into the room, asking how I was. Telling me to come home, and that I had school in the morning. Who were my friends, and how did I get here.

Instead, Ness’ voice filled the room. He told us of the wonders of Fourside, the Big Banana. It had skyscrapers, bustling streets, and shady politicians. The department store was huge but oddly closed, and the theater starred some band called the Runaway Five who were in a real pickle. While he regaled us about their trip into the maze-like tunnel of the gold mine, Pikachu, Pichu, and Jigglypuff came running through with Kirby. They raided the pantry and one of the fridges then skedaddled.

No mom, though.

The timer dinged just as Ness and his friends had left the mines, unfortunately empty-handed.

“Oh!” said Peach. “The cake’s done!”

I leaped from my chair, and waited by the bowl of frosting, bouncing on the balls of my feet again. She opened the oven to get the cake out, and slid the pan onto the counter. Vanilla, my favorite! Peach turned back to the others. “Would you like to help frost the cake, Ness?” she offered.

My stomach dropped. I thought I was going to be helping out with the decorating. That or hovering over Peach’s shoulder while she made a plain, ordinary cake disc look absolutely delicious. I mean, it was a Peach cake! Who wouldn’t want to make one?

“Okay!” said Ness. He dragged his chair over to the counter so he could reach the cake. Suddenly, I felt bad about denying him the right to decorate. There would always be other cakes, after all.

Then I remembered that there really wouldn’t be.

Peach dropped two spreader spatulas, or whatever they were called, into the frosting bowl. With a smile and a nod, she said, “Go ahead.” Ness picked up one spatula and got to work, while all I could do was stare at the princess.

I pointed dumbly at the other spatula. “You mean it?” I asked.

She giggled. “Of course! You two frost the cake, and I’ll get the strawberries!” She walked off to one of the fridges to do just that. I chuckled and took up the position of Froster Number Two. Together with Ness, we managed to layer the cake pretty well in buttercream. Some parts were a little lumpy or thinner than they should’ve been, but we got the job done. Peach then took her turn and placed strawberry halves evenly around the cake. Whip cream was dolloped at the edges, one between each strawberry half. In the middle she used what looked like black and yellow syrup to make an invincibility star. A handful of star-shaped sprinkles top it off, and we had a mini-Peach cake before us.

The princess herself cut the cake into eight slices, each one with a strawberry half on it. “Ven,” she said, “could you get some plates from the cupboard? They’re in the one above and right of the sink.”

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, and walked halfway across the kitchen to get them. There was enough room that if more people decided to cook or bake while we were still around, we wouldn’t really have a space issue unless a dozen people were walking around at the same time, and more chairs were dragged in.

The kitchen was just mind-bogglingly big, with two double-door fridges and multiple ovens and stoves for free-use. I’d gotten somewhat used to it over the past hour, but it was still kind of freaky.

 I got six plates, and returned to the cake site. The angel was at another part of the kitchen for all of five seconds and came back with forks. Zelda hadn’t been slouching either and was pouring all of us a cup of brown-colored tea. The trainer was busy bringing out his Pokémon, while the angel, Ness, and me stood in a line beside the counter, waiting for our turn at the beautiful dessert. In a few minutes, we all had a seat, a cake slice, and some of the best tea I had ever tasted. It wasn’t overly sweet, but wasn’t bitter in the slightest. It was light years away from my own tea making skills, and I couldn’t be happier. Didn’t know how Zelda did it. I could only ever make tea taste like hot leaf juice. Truly I had failed General Iroh.

The cake though? The cake was amazing! I don’t know what Peach did during the mixing process, but it was fluffy and moist. The frosting was light and smooth, complementing the cake in a way that I couldn’t describe. You would had never guessed that it had been made over the course of almost an hour with a couple of amateur cooks on board.

I almost drained the tea completely while watching the Pokémon. Their trainer had taken two slices and cut them both in half so they could all have an equal amount. Peach had even gotten a couple more cups so Squirtle and Ivysaur could some have tea, too. I vaguely remembered that Pokémon had certain dietary needs or whatever, but this was dessert time. They could be spoiled. Charizard, the sneak, snagged the last slice while Peach was busy with the other Pokémon. No wonder he’d declined the tea. That or his claws would prevent him from holding the cup properly.

Out of everyone, though, the angel seemed to enjoy the cake the most. He hummed appreciatively, eating giant chunks of it at a time.

“This is so good!” he crowed. “Almost as good as floor ice cream! I knew one of Princess Peach’s cakes would be great, but wow!” He took another huge bite, practically shoveling the dessert in.

I had to laugh. “It’s pretty good, huh?”

He gulped down his food, and grinned. “Pretty good? It’s the best cake I’ve ever had!”

Peach and Zelda quietly giggled at his antics, while the rest of us ate at a slower pace.

Although I’ll admit, I finished my slice not long after the angel did.

“Oh yeah. That hit the spot,” sighed the angel. Ness and the trainer nodded in agreement while the Pokémon all made various sounds in happiness. “Thanks, Peach! Ness, Ven, you too!”

“You’re welcome, Pit,” said Peach. So his name was Pit, huh? “I’m glad you all liked it. I’ll be sure to make a bigger one next time.”

“It was fun baking with you,” Ness chimed in.

“I just...did what Peach told me to,” I muttered. Still couldn’t look Pit in the eye.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit!” he insisted. “You put your mind to it, and you accomplished something you never tried before! Sure, you had to follow instructions, but that’s how you learn!” I looked back to see Pit smiling. I found that I couldn’t fault that logic.

Feeling better, I chuckled. “Thanks.”

He perked up. “Oh! Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said. “Which world do you come from, Ven? I know Princess Zelda is from Hyrule, Princess Peach is from the Mushroom Kingdom, Red is from Kanto, and Ness is from Eagleland. But I don’t know where _you’re_ from.”

I saw no harm in answering. “Earth,” I replied.

Pit tilted his head, like there was something confusing about what I’d said. “That’s a weird name for a planet,” he admitted.

I cracked a smile, and snorted. Managing eye contact was a little easier. “Pfft. Yeah. That’s not even the worst one.”

Pit placed his plate and cup on his lap, then crossed his arms. His eyebrows knitted together in honest curiosity. “What could be a worse name than ‘Earth’?” he asked.

That was a setup to a punchline if I ever heard one. I was about to get up to go whisper it to him, when I reminded myself of our current company. As funny as it would be to say ‘Uranus’ in front of two princesses, I wanted to keep on their good sides. Also, it seemed to be in bad taste considering the presence of a _literal angel._

I idly wondered what it would be like to fly. Probably a slow motion disaster, like what always happened. Could never really get any speed in a dream.

I glanced away from Pit. “Uh… Never mind. It’s bad, and let’s just leave it at that,” I said.

“Well...okay,” he said tentatively. My shoulders sagged in relief. “Right. Sooo what’s your world like?”

“It’s, uh...normal?” I shrugged. “We’ve got TV, cars, electricity, the internet...” I paused, considering the worlds represented before me, and the world I came from. Thinking carefully, I spoke slower. “We’ve been to the moon, but no other planet. We’ve explored the ocean a little. There’s indoor plumbing, and planes, but no spaceships. It’s..normal.” Pressure built up under my eyes. “It’s home.”

I nearly choked up on the last word. I couldn’t even really place what caused it. Earth was home, not Hyrule, Toad Town, or Kanto. And there was nothing that would ever change that.

Pit nodded. “Yeah, I feel the same about Skyworld. It’s nice being here, but it will be nice to get back.” He smiled at that. “Oh! Do you know the Nexus name for your world?”

There was a capital-N ‘Nexus’ in there, I could feel it. “Uh, no?” I replied. “What in the world’s a Nexus name?’

Princess Zelda lightly cleared her throat, catching everyone’s attention. Whoops! We’d been talking for too long. “A Nexus name is what Master Hand refers to our worlds by,” she explained. “My world, for example, is known as ‘The Legend of Zelda’ while Peach’s world” – she gestured to the other princess – “is commonly called ‘Super Mario’.” She paused a brief second. “...Although that hardly explains anything about her world.” I nodded. It made sense. Even it didn’t, you just didn’t question dream logic. “As I understand it, the Nexus names refer to stories. These stories are told through games, and much like books or word of mouth, they are simply another medium through which others may learn of our legends.”

I slowly blinked. “Whoa...” I murmured. Because really, it was a little too close to a running idea I had for a story on hiatus. All worlds were connected, and every game we played corresponded to one world. But the worlds were only created when someone thought them up and put pen to paper. Sometimes it worked when the world was dreamed of, too. I hadn’t quite worked out the mechanics.

However, the idea that the games were just another medium for storytelling for already established worlds hadn’t quite clicked in my head. And it made so. Much. Sense!

Pit hummed, cupping his cute chin – stop it! Stop it, Ven!

“It kind of feels like the other way around sometimes,” he said. “Like our worlds are really games, and we’re playing out a story.” Pit relaxed and grinned. “But that’s just silly!”  
“Oh, yes, completely silly.”  
I chuckled, well, more like giggled at that. Oh, if they only knew.

They’d probably freak out.

“Ah!” Ness spoke up. I turned to see Red bent down to the kid’s height, drawing his hands back to his lap. “Red wants to know if it would be okay to pick up my story again.”  
“Hmm. That human to your right keeps looking at you. I wonder if she has a crush on you?”  
There was a brief sputtering to my left. Out of the corner of my eye, Pit’s shoulders raised up, stiffened. I turned a little more to see what was up. He was still grinning as before, but it was more strained. Almost like it was plastered there, actually.  
“See? She’s doing it again.”  
Why would he be struggling to look happy? And why were his cheeks reddening?

“That would be nice,” said Zelda. “Thank you.”

So, plates and cups were rinsed and placed in the sink, and we settled in to listen to the rest of Ness’ adventure. He picked right back up after he and his friends had left the mines, back into the dreaded heat of the desert. Some of the Smasher Pokémon came and went from the kitchen as we listened, as did Kirby, Young Link, Roy our boy, and _flipping King Dedede_. I suppose the contender for Most Gluttonous Person on Popstar had to show up at a Smash Bros. Tournament sometime. He took like half a fridge with him, Waddle Dees trailing behind him with the other half.

What exactly anyone needed with that many frozen tater tots was beyond me. Maybe he ate them raw?

Not something to ponder about.

Anyway. The kid from Onett wasn’t the best storyteller ever. When he wasn’t rambling about his friends, he was going on about what he had found in the trash or the wonder of finding one of those Sanctuary spots. But it was fun to listen, even with the weird as get out Moonside detour and the literal garbage monsters that had to be fought.

Ew.

Every so often, I’d look over at Pit. The angel would sometimes be smiling when he shouldn’t have been, or grimacing at the oddest times. His lips would scrunch up at awesome or plain moments, but just as quickly as I would see it, he would go back to his default smile again. Most of the time though, he’d just cover his mouth with his hands and quietly mutter something, like he was whispering to someone.  
“You’ll be glad to know that there are no monsters made of trash anywhere in our world.”  
That was something to ask him about when I got the chance.   
“Mortals are truly capable of amazing things.”  
Just as soon as Ness got through the Monkey Caves.


	3. Fight Against Koopa

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to devkyu who pitched a couple suggestions for this chapter.
> 
> Palutena is the best. Don’t know how well I did with her character.

Not even halfway into Ness’ recounting of how the cave-blocking monkeys were thwarted, my plans had to be changed.

A deep roar startled us all, rattling the windows and the dishes in the sink, and making the ground vibrate under our feet. A chill briefly ran through me. It was a somewhat familiar sound, although I had never heard it at such a terrifying volume. After all, Bowser roared all the time when fighting Mario, but it hadn't been anything on a scale like this.

“Whoa!”

“Oh my!”

Muffled voices stirred up from the dining room next door, only to be cut through by a powerful, commanding one.

“No!” Bowser shouted. “I have had it! That little rodent has shocked me for the last time! Come on! My castle is still in the lineup, and I won’t have this settled anywhere else!”

The chatter beyond the door suddenly became louder. Taking a quick look, I found that the Squirtle had pulled the door open some, peeking into the other room.

“...purpose.”

“Of course he did!” Bowser bellowed. Ow. “He was on my head and he _shocked me!_ ”

“Oh dear,” Peach sighed. She rose to her feet. “Please excuse me, everyone.” She gave Ness a sad smile. “I’ll have to find out what happened with those monkeys later.”

“Pi pi chu!”

“Kachu!”

“Fine! I’ll take you both on!”

Peach shook her head, and headed for the door. “Oh Pichu...”

Ivysaur wandered over to Squirtle, rising on his hind legs to see over the turtle Pokémon’s head. The trainer – Red, I belatedly remembered – silently sighed, moved his hands around signing for a bit, and got up as well. Charizard trailed after him, leaving just Zelda, Pit, Ness. and me.

Ness looked disappointed, but he tried smiling anyway. “It’s okay,” he said. “I can try finishing it later.”

“Sorry,” I said, because who likes having their story interrupted by a fire-breathing turtle?

Pit groaned. “Oh, man. That stinks,” he said. “Maybe later tonight? I gotta know if you guys got that yogurt machine!”

Ness cracked a real grin, slowly nodding his head. “Okay.”

The discussion from the dining room had just about petered out. The door to it closed with a soft click, leaving the rest of us in relative silence.

Zelda hummed, eyes closed. “I don’t remember the mansion having any phones...” she muttered. She opened her eyes, and looked at Ness with an encouraging smile. “We could go to Smash City to get you one. I’m certain Master Hand wouldn’t mind you calling home.”

For a second, I thought she was going to say ‘or else’. The ninja princess of destiny had a certain degree of intimidation about her, and I was not going to get on her bad side. Ever.

Ness’ face lit up like Christmas had come early. “Okay!” he said, and that was that. We all said our good-byes, and they walked out through another kitchen door, opposite the one for the dining room. It led out towards the front side of the house – er, mansion. I didn’t know where in the world the city was or how they would get there, but I hoped they found something for Ness.

The poor kid deserved a call home. He said that he’d been at the mansion for almost three days. He had to have been feeling homesick by now. His friend Jeff was around somewhere, but friends were no substitution to loving parents. It was too bad no one else from his home world had come along. Paula had been left in Twoson with her really, _really_ protective father, and Poo was needed in his country.

Whoever named a boy that either had a poor sense of humor, or Poo meant something else entirely where he came from. I really hoped it was the latter.

“So it’s going to be Bowser versus Pikachu and Pichu, huh?” said Pit. Apparently he’d been paying more attention to things than I had. He grinned. “This I gotta see! Are you coming, Ven?”  
“I wonder which universe she calls home?”  
Just for a few seconds, I debated whether to go see the match or visit Smash City. It was a no brainer. I mean, it was a city. What could there possibly be to see that was so interesting? Now, watching a Smash fight between the Koopa King and part of the Pikachu evolutionary line? Live? _That_ was up my alley.  
“She doesn’t have the same design as someone from Altea or Lycia...”  
“Alright,” I agreed. “Let’s go!”

“Awesome!” And Pit was sprinting for all he was worth to the dining room. I shook off my shock, and ran with everything I had to catch up. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. He had the lead, and managed to snatch up a few goodies laid out on the entirely too long dining table without slowing down much. I claimed a styrofoam bowl and a handful of mini chocolate chip cookies and, to my everlasting surprise and joy, malted milk balls. Pit was out the door at the far end by the time I collected everything, but chocolate!

There was more than enough food to feed an army. Or at least a couple dozen ravenous people. I didn’t have much interest in going over all of it, since there was no telling how much of the battle had already been missed.

Pit had left the room before me, and I was absolutely sure he was going to beat me to the theater. I flung the door open, ready to pick up the pace again, bu I didn’t have to. He hadn’t gotten too far. He was actually on the other side of the door, already flagging and panting.  
“Oh! I’ve got it!”  
Passing him up, I felt the need to say something. Anything.

One line came to me, and with a grin, I taunted him. “Last one there’s a Gnorc!”  
“Yes, she’s likely from the dating-sim Harvest Moon.”  
“H-hey!” he sputtered, and I immediately felt bad. I slowed down just enough to keep pace with him as he caught his breath.

“Okay, maybe not a Gnorc,” I relented, because _what had I been thinking?!_ I’d had friends with asthma before. Maybe he had the same problem? Taunting him had been a mistake. “Last one there is the last one there. Too bad there aren’t any controllers.”

In response, Pit stumbled over his words worse than I did hurdles.“I, uh, um...” He scratched the back of his head.  
“You’ll have to let her down easy, Pit, otherwise you might trigger a wedding cutscene!”  
“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s just, uh..” He gulped down more air, apparently not getting enough. “Running takes a lot out of me. So...I don’t really...have the energy to talk.” He gave that same strained smile I’d seen in the kitchen, only worse. All his pearly whites were showing, and his eyes were closed tight.

An angel lying? Making an excuse? It was weird. Wasn’t like it was my first avoidance dance though. Go with the flow was the name of the game. The whole literal angel thing suddenly didn’t hang over my head as much.

I held up a hand. “Hey, listen. I get it," I said calmly. "If you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to. Nobody’s forcing you to interact with me.” I slightly sped up so he didn’t have to deal with me. “I’ll see you later.” I gave a wave without looking back. Why look someone in the eye if they didn’t want anything to do with you?  
“Hmm.”  
“H-hey! Wait!” With a burst of energy, Pit was at my side again. “I’m sorry, just... It’s got to be lonely being from a small village in the country taking care of a farm -”

“Uh...”

“- especially doing it all alone.”

“Uh...”

“And you have all these single guys around -”

What was happening.

“- but you can only choose one. Now you’re here, and we’ve talked a lot, and uh...”

I stopped in my tracks, and tilted my head at him. It took a moment for the strange string of words to register, and when it did, I still didn’t have an answer. Small village, farming, _single guys_? Where had that crazy idea come from? It sounded like he was talking about Harvest Moon, that one farming-dating sim. What about me said country girl though? Was it the worn out pants?

“Look, it’s not that you wouldn’t be an S-rank partner!” he insisted, waving his hands in front of him. “Just that, uh... I’m not old enough to get married anytime soon!”

“What?!” I screeched, then toned it down. “What are you talking about? I don’t want to get married!”  
“Ha ha ha!”  
“W-what?” After a second, he slumped and groaned. “Lady Palutena...”  
“Don’t take it too hard, Pit. It’s good to know she isn’t from Harvest Moon.”  
I just kind of stood there while Pit recovered. I got what S-rank meant – Sonic games had been implementing it as something better than A-rank and it irked me on a personal level – but marriage? Where had _that_ come from?  
“Still, we don’t know which world she’s from or what Master Hand sees in her.”  
Pit tilted his head to one side. “World? Didn’t she already say she was from Earth?”

I opened my mouth to add onto the weird tangent, but then stopped. He hadn’t been talking to me. He spoke to nothing, and I wasn’t sure how to take it.  
“Yes, but that’s that what I’m referring to. I meant her universe, and what the Nexus name of it is.”  
“Well, why’s that important?” he asked the air next to me.  
“There is a balance to all things, Pit. Plus, I really want to know.”  
...Right. He was either talking to God or that Palutena person – actually, no that was probably just it. I had no idea what else to expect because Super Smash Bros. had been Nintendo exclusive until _Sonic_ the fricking Hedgehog arrived, so who knew what the deal was here? Pit could have been from some minor Nintendo game or from a third party series where he spoke to a psychic and solved crimes, which would end with some boss battle based off of the psychic’s subconscious or some such nonsense.  
“Don’t worry about it for now. Just enjoy yourself.”  
“Uh, excuse me,” I said carefully, because I didn’t know if my guess was right or not, “but...what are you doing?”

Pit redirected his attention towards me. He smiled. “Oh! I was talking to Lady Palutena!” He seemed oddly proud of that statement.

“Lady...Palutena?” I parroted back slowly. It was a foreign word, one I had never read or heard of before.

“Yeah!” he said. “She’s basically the best!”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry but...Lady Palutena...is your goddess?”

Pit bobbed his head. “Yep! The goddess of light, and ruler of Angel Land! Don’t you remember? I told you earlier outside.”

I winced. There was no putting this in a good light. I could memorize passing comments or trivia, but put me in a group with cute creatures running around and Roy’s handsome face, and my attention span shrank to the size of a pea. “I...sort of wasn’t paying attention,” I admitted. “Sorry.”

The angel sighed. An awkward silence settled as neither of us said anything. For all of three seconds.  
“Perhaps she was distracted by the cute team of Pichu riding on Yoshi’s saddle?”  
Pit chuckled half-heartedly, scratching his cheek. “They _are_ pretty cute.”

“Hm?”

He grinned. “Yoshi and Pichu. You were watching them, weren’t you?”

I shrugged, looking away. “They’re cute,” I murmured. Roy had taken most of my focus in the crowded theater. The rest of it had been on watching Pichu ride around on an adorable dinosaur. It had been surreal, especially with the bit of yellow cloth around Pichu’s neck acting as a cape. Only the promise of cake had made me move instead of continuing to stare.

Pit chuckled. “I don’t blame you for being distracted. There’s a lot to take in around here.”

My thoughts stopped, then backtracked to why, exactly, we were standing there in the hall in the first place.  
“I think you’re forgetting something.”  
I looked up. A second later, Pit’s eyes widened.

“The fight!” he said.

“Bowser versus Pikachu -”

“And Pichu!” he finished.

“Let’s go!” we said together, and raced off to the theater at the back of the mansion. Pit had to stop once to catch his breath, but I didn’t see a reason to run ahead. I wanted to, no doubt, but leaving friends in the dust was dumb.

The sounds of thunderbolts, head bashes, and terrible roaring reached us as we ran outside. The music was the foreboding, yet encouraging and heroic one from Super Mario 64 when you were on your way to kick Bowser’s butt. Into bombs.

We chose to jog the rest of the way to the theater, listening as one of the Pokémon clearly lost by the cry of “Pika!”.

“Aw, man!” Pit groaned.

“We’re almost there!” I said, and then we were.

At a glance, I recognized which iteration of Bowser’s Castle was being fought on. There was only one or two games where you fought on the top of it, after all. It may not have been grand or exciting, but the wandering Clown Car and the flashes of thunder still made it pretty interesting.

Pikachu dodged left and right around Bowser, occasionally taking a hit himself. His headbutts made decent damage, but for some reason he wasn’t really resorting to anything else. Meanwhile, Pichu sat atop the Clown Car sending down sparks of electricity in the hopes that it would hit Bowser. Sometimes it did. Other times Bowser would roll right through the attack, and slash at Pikachu’s back.

It was a terrible matchup. The Pokémon had the speed, but the King of Dark Land had the durability. The damage readings at the bottom of the screen showed Bowser with the most damage taken at 92, but he hadn’t been blasted off yet. In second was Pichu in the high 50s then Pikachu in the mid 10s.

Pichu’s thundershock hit its target, freezing the Koopa King in place for a moment. Pikachu then rushed in, headbutting him relentlessly. Bowser slowly inched himself away to get out of his range and off the back foot.

Then Pichu in his little blue goggles hopped down and joined in from the other side, and Bowser was nothing more than a sandbag. His damage counter racked up, past 100, past 110. He had to have been hurting from the onslaught as the counter quickly made its way past 150%.

“Pi!” Pikachu stood his ground for a second - “Ka!” - and sent Bowser _flying_ out of sight so fast only the smoke trail and the flash on the left side of the screen gave any indication where he went.

The people around us cheered. Pikachu and Pichu waved to the camera, celebrating in the brief lull of fighting.

I took note of the life counters. With how Pichu had one life, and Pikachu and Bowser had two, I guessed that the battle had started with everybody at three. Red team versus blue team going by the colored symbols.

The Pokémon split up, each going to an opposite side of the castle, and standing on the ‘crowns’. The circular spots with parapets at the top corners of a castle.

Before they managed to get into position, however, Bowser came back on the Angelic Platform. Fire rained down from one end of the stage to the other as if to herald his return. Flashing with brief invincibility, Bowser turned left, where Pichu was waiting, and started stomping towards it. Not rolling like a tank, but stomping!

Pichu bounced in place while Pikachu rushed across the stage, jumping over the flames. He wasn’t going to make it in time. Halfway there he paused in a safe spot and curled up, smoke rolling off him.

Thunder lit up the sky. The fire extinguished. Bowser reached Pichu, but instead of breathing fire, he rose sharply into the air. A split second later he came crashing down. Pichu literally rolled to the side, and ran back towards his ally. Bowser pushed himself up, and roared at the top of his lungs. The king would not be denied this victory.

Ping! A capsule appeared beside him. Pikachu had stopped with the smoke effects, and was prepped and primed to attack, while Pichu was hiding right behind him. The Koopa King grabbed the capsule, took a running leap, and tossed it at Pikachu. With nowhere to run it hit dead on, interrupting the charged attack Pikachu had in store, and knocking him back. Pichu grabbed up the released motion sensor bomb and tossed it where Bowser would land. The koopa tucked into his shell and spun over the explosive, leaving himself vulnerable to Pichu’s thunderbolt. Pikachu shook himself off and charged right back in, jumping into the air and hitting Bowser back towards the bomb.

Ping! A barrel appeared to the far right, but it went ignored. Bowser landed heavily on the ground, then rolled right and leaped into the air again. Pikachu called down another bolt, but Bowser slammed into him from above. The Pokémon was thrown into the air by the impact. Pichu took a slash to the face and a shoulder check to the body, and was sent flying off the edge of the stage.

Pikachu built himself up again. “Pi! Pi!” Pichu quick attacked back towards the ledge. He barely landed to safety just as his partner let loose and skullbashed into Bowser. He hit the motion sensor bomb and was wreathed in flames as he tumbled into the air.

Mechakoopas sprang out of the Clown Car. Pikachu quickly hopped on one of the fake koopas, crumpled it, grabbed it, and threw it at the king. It hit, but the damage difference between him and the two Pokémon was still too large. One more good hit and Pichu was out.

This time, Pichu charged himself up. He used his skullbash to cross part of the stage while Pikachu kept Bowser at bay for a few seconds. The fierce koopa grabbed the Pokémon and began mercilessly slashing at him. One body slam later and it was Pikachu who was scrambling to come back with quick attack.

A mushroom fell from the sky. Beside me, Pit said something about the Clown Car, but I barely heard it above the sudden noises from the stands. Pikachu rushed after Bowser to intercept, barely clipping him with another quick attack. But it wasn’t quick enough. Bowser fell towards the mushroom.

 Then Pichu skullbashed his way below him. And the mushroom was absorbed.

Scattered hooting and applause followed. The giant Pichu called down a bolt of thunder, zapping Bowser. Pikachu followed after and in seconds both Pokémon were kicking and headbutting the ever loving fluff out of the King of Koopas!

Two thunderbolts were called down and Bowser was sent up, and up. He disappeared from the magnifying glass, and was soon seen spinning into the background, vanishing with a fading roar as a tiny star.

The scoreboard was a little more even. Pichu had racked up his damage in the high 80s, while Pikachu was in the low 100s. They could win, but it would be a near thing.

The Pokémon split up again, this time without taunting. Bowser came back and in a second was charging at the normal-sized Pichu again. The small Pokémon quick attacked up to the wandering Clown Car, no doubt in a gamble to run out the clock on the angelic invincibility. Bowser leaped, spun, and missed the car.

Then an arc of electricity hit him on the ground. Pichu came back down and sided next to Pikachu, sending out a thundershock in the gaps of Pikachu’s own shocks. Together they kept Bowser at bay while damaging him just enough that he would be forced to do something.

But all those shocks were hurting Pichu. He rose past Pikachu’s damage counter, and just kept going.

During a gap in the assault, Bowser jumped into the air, and once again spun towards the Clown Car.

He made it. The true blue team ran for cover under the hovering car. Nowhere was safe. The king had the edge at last. The Pokémon did the only thing they could.

They started up their thunderbolts right below their opponent. The thunder clouds formed.

Then Bowser crashed down and hit them both.

“Pichu pii chuu…!”

“Pika pii kaa…!”

“Pichu defeated!”

I let out a breath of air I hadn’t even noticed I’d been holding. Outraged cries of ‘Jig jiggly!’ and ‘Cario!’ erupted off to one side, but were short lived. Pikachu came back on the platform and after a second to locate him, went back to pummeling Bowser. He picked up a beam sword that appeared on one of the ‘crowns’ and batted the old koopa around like a ping pong ball. He hit Bowser into the air, then dashed to the other side of the stage to whack him back. It went on until Pikachu couldn’t keep up with the increasing distance between strikes and Bowser finally landed.

Unable to keep him in the air, Pikachu resorted to one of the oldest known tricks in the book.

When you don’t have a projectile, make one.

The beam sword turned end over end, and smacked Bowser in the face. It vanished in a puff of smoke, and the King of Koopas was sent over the edge. Pikachu picked up a lip stick, and ran as fast as his stubby legs could carry him in the same direction. Off in the tiny magnifying lens, Bowser managed to regain his senses. He air jumped and spun back to the stage’s edge, intending to smash a rodent off his castle.

Only to be hit with the worst flower in Smash Bros. history. Bowser fell and spun back up.

Then Pikachu hit him with a skullbash.

A final roar of defeat was interrupted by a single word.

“Game!” People all over the stands began applauding and cheering. The frozen screenshot fell apart to show Pikachu and Pichu waving and hopping around.

“This game’s winner is...blue team!”

And poor Bowser was left to begrudgingly clap in a small screen at the bottom.

“Alright!” Pit shouted. “Did you see how they fought together? It was like they planned the whole thing!”

“Yeah!” I said. If my smile had been any wider it would’ve split my face. “They were totally in sync! When did they have time to plan this? It’s insane!”

“I know!” Pit was bouncing on the balls of his feet, all smiles. “They really knew how to coordinate! The way Pikachu backed up his buddy was really awesome!” He pumped a fist into the air, laughing.

“Yes!” I jumped in. “And the mushroom! The mushroom! It came out of nowhere and instead of a free-for-all, Pikachu gave Pichu an opening to grab it!”

“And the twin thundershocks!”

“The thunderbolts!”

“The beam sword!”

“The lip stick!” Pit bent over laughing at that point.

When he calmed down, he scratched the back of his head. “They really know how to work together,” he said. “Bowser could have easily wiped the floor with them, but instead they turned him into a living sandbag!” He paused. “...A...different living sandbag.” I huffed a laugh. The sandbag had eyes and could move on its own. Nobody could say it was in any way ordinary.

I took a peek at the wooden stage. The Pokémon had left, leaving Bowser to take off a golden bracelet, huff, and stomp away.

“He just can’t catch a break,” I said. “If it’s not having his wishes refused or his plans foiled, it’s being beaten by a couple of knee-high monsters.”

“Yeah, well, things might go well for him if didn’t kidnap Princess Peach all the time, or try taking over other kingdoms,” Pit replied. I nodded. It was nice to think about. A kinder Bowser would probably have more than a couple wishes coming true, and a whole lot less butt kicking coming his way. But I doubted Bowser would ever turn over a new leaf. He just loved being bad too much.

“Hey,” Pit pointed at two green figures on stage, “is that Young Link? And...which Link is that?”

I gasped. “Young Link and Toon Link? _Toon Link?_ Majora’s Mask versus Wind Waker!” I punched the air and clapped my hands. A little childish, but I had no shame. It was _Link_ from two different eras, not just young versus old.

“Oh yeah! Isn’t his world flooded?” he asked.

“Yep,” I answered. “But he’s here, and he’s gonna kick butt!”

A sudden revelation occurred to me. I gave Pit a very serious look.

“Pit,” I said. “We need popcorn.”

“Yeah!” We turned to the large screen, watching as both Links slipped on golden bands, stepped onto the metal pads, and disappeared.

“Rrright after this,” he said.

“Totally.”


	4. Catch Me If You Can

Watching a couple people go head-to-head in a Smash Bros. bout never got old. A random drop or well-timed environmental hazard could change the tide of battle. No two people or NPCs fought alike so the loser of one match could be the winner of another.

And although watching it alone was fun, being around other people made it become something more. It was exciting, it was energizing. It was hands down the best feeling in the world.

I shouted at the top of my lungs as Snorlax narrowly missed Young Link. Toon took the small advantage he had and came right out from behind the massive Pokémon, slashing at Young’s back. Young landed and hit him right back with a sword spin. Toon tumbled and landed hard on the other side of the small platform. In the small break, Young lined up a shot and let it fly. The fire arrow whizzed by Toon as the boy rolled to his feet to get back in Young’s face.

The battle had been pretty back and forth for a while. Young had the experience, but Toon had agility, and adapted to the situation fast. The two were pretty evenly matched and gave as good as they got. Arrows flew, bombs were flung, and blows were exchanged with intense frequency. It was literally anybody’s fight with only the occasional drop on Termina Bay giving either one an edge.

Ping! A crate appeared on the floating raft. Young went to work on it while Toon grabbed up a capsule in the middle. The crate burst open into a small feast, providing Young a little recovery.

Until Toon threw the capsule at him, which immediately exploded. Young was sent off to the side, and Toon moved in on the rest of the food, stuffing his face before Young’s inevitable return.

I stomped my feet on the floor like I was running in place. “Come on!” I shouted. “Go Young Link!”

“Go Toon Link!” Pit cheered on to my left.

I clapped. “Go heroes of Hyrule!”

The timer was counting down the last twenty seconds. Toon threw a bomb and retreated. Young used a sword spin to get some height, but ended up getting hit by the explosive anyway. Toon nocked an arrow and let it fly as soon as Young popped his head up. It hit, and Young was pushed back. He recovered back onto the raft and, seeing that it was a lost cause to go up, decided to go under.

Two hops and a hookshot later, he was on the other side. He withdrew a bomb, leaped, and let it fly. It detonated close to Toon, enveloping him in smoke.

And not for the first time since the match began, I wondered at how two children could fight each other so fiercely. In their home universe it was fine. It was even normal. They were heroes, chosen by the goddesses or fate to fight evil and triumph for the good of Hyrule and all who lived in it. They fought monsters more than ten times their sizes and won. They each fought a version of Ganondorf and put a sword through his head. At least older Link had at any rate. Yet, there was something about them fighting each other that didn’t feel right to me. Why even?

The thought was put on the back burner as both heroes began fighting in close quarters again. Breath held, I watched as both of them kept getting flung farther and farther from the center with each heavy hit until Toon Link was smashed off of the stage and out of bounds with a cry of defeat.

Pit groaned beside me as did a few others, but for the most part, people were pretty alright with things going by the scattered cheers. Maybe it was because Young Link had been around longer, and people liked him better. Who knew?

Go with the flow, I reminded myself. Don’t question the dream. It was just Smash Bros. for goodness sakes.

Toon Link came back on the Angelic Platform, his head turning this way and that. He patted his stomach, and after a moment, dropped back onto the stage.

“Five!”

He rolled away from Young’s strike.

“Four!”

Toon slashed him, then rolled further back.

“Three!”

Young followed, tossing a bomb at him.

“Two!”

Toon caught it and tossed it back

“One!”

The bomb went off a split second later in Young’s face.

“Time!”

The scene froze, then fell apart a moment later. The screen centered on the winner.

“This game’s winner is...Young Link!”

Poor Toon Link was left to clap in a corner for the other hero. Hopefully he had better luck next time.

My arm was gently nudged. “Puyo?”

“Huh?” I looked down to see Kirby, the pink puffball himself. Hanging on his little stub of an arm was a chocolate frosted donut. He held it out invitingly. “Oh! Thank you, Kirby.” I took it from him gratefully, and bit into the pastry, enjoying how soft it was. I didn’t know if it came from the kitchen or the buffet in the dining room, but I didn’t care. Kirby passed Jigglypuff an apple while he was at it, and pretty soon the little group I was in was full of very happy creatures. The two electric Pokémon were nibbling on colorful round balls of some kind, Yoshi had sliced melon, and the newcomer Lucario had his hands on the last bits of a kebab. The only one not indulging was Pit, who was on his feet, bouncing again. I almost thought he was going to jump and fly way with how excited he was. Soar through the skies and leave us all here on Earth. Or the Nexus, I supposed.

His overjoyed laughter was cut off by a cupcake offering from Kirby, and suddenly he was a little quieter. I swear the angel had a sweet tooth that rivaled even mine on Halloween.

Kirby outdid us all, of course, as was to be expected. It was like a picnic with all the food spread out at his feet. He let other people steal bites here and there, though, which was nice.

Pit finished off his cupcake, smacking his lips. “That was so awesome!” he said. “I thought for sure Toony was going to win, though. He was so fast and nimble. Like a cat!”

“A cat?” I asked.

“Yeah! His eyes are even kind of shaped like a cat’s, you know?” I looked back up at the screen, but it closed out of the victory screen shortly after. When Young Link and Toon Link reappeared on the teleporter pad, I took a good look, squinting.

“From a certain angle,” I admitted. Both Links shook hands. It was good to see them on friendly terms, instead of carrying any grudges.

“Do you think they glow in the dark, too?” I stared at him. Pit stared at me, expectantly. I had no answer. Who had an answer for that?

His ever-present smile faltered just for a second. “...You know, like a cat?” he prodded.

Still nothing. I tried imagining Toon Link with eyes glinting yellow in the night and yeah, no, bad imagery. Next!  
“Sounds like he could be a real cat burglar.”  
For no reason that I could see, he chuckled. “I guess you could say he would be _purr_ -fect for the job!” He kept laughing for a while, while the rest of us groaned. He liked puns. _Bad_ puns. What was I going to do? Tell him awful knock-knock jokes my grandma told me? No, nah, nuh-uh.  
“There wouldn’t be any _paw_ -blems for him!”  
He burst into giggles again. “He’s just _claw_ -some!”

Okay, I had to laugh at that one.

“Hey! My first laugh in the Smash Nexus! Thank you, thank you!” Pit mock bowed to me, making me crack up. It was almost like I was back home, chatting up my friends. Only here it was face-to-face.

“Puyo!” I turned to find Kirby offering another donut. This one had white frosting with colorful sprinkles. I passed it up, but Pit did not. Like I said, sweet tooth.

“So,” I started, looking back at the main stage. Mario, Luigi, and Marth were in front of it, talking. How they understood each other through the language barrier, I had no clue. “What do you think it’s like fighting in there? You have a small area to move side-to-side, like...two-point-five-D space. You have hazards you can’t see coming, and enemies can get you anywhere. Like… You remember how Young Link got hit with the arrow we saw Toon Link readying?” A peek at Pit showed he was listening. At least, that’s what I took his nodding for. “We saw it, but Young Link didn’t, so he ended up getting hit. Then he hopped under the stage and came up the other side, but Toon didn’t have any idea. So...if you’re out there, you won’t have the advantage we have out here.”

Pit finished up his donut. “It sounds chaotic...but fun, too!” he said. “I mean, grabbing a Poké Ball or invincibility star has gotta feel great, right?”

“Or nabbing a hammer!” I added.

“Doot dootdoot-doot-doot DOOT doot DOOT doot, doot dootdoot-doot-doot DOOT doot DOOT doot!” Bent over, I laughed harder than I had during my whole time at the mansion as Pit mimicked the infamous sound of doom. It wasn’t a large milestone, but it felt meaningful all the same.

Catching my breath, I found that the situation I was in was surreal, even for a dream. Perhaps the angel was a sign for something, or someone my subconscious thought up who would get along with a gamer. Although gamer was a little too broad. More like a figment who would get along with someone who made certain specific references that a lot of others wouldn’t understand the context of.

Looking around me, it was ridiculous what I was seeing. You had princes, princesses, heroes, and villains, but they were all pretty normal. For a give definition of ‘normal’ at least. They weren’t anything supernatural. No aliens with mind-controlling powers, no acid spitters, no walking nightmares. Ganondorf and Mewtwo were the only ones who came close, and they were still mortal. Kind of. Ganondorf had the whole reincarnation gig going, so I wasn’t sure how to classify him.

Then I glanced at Pit and couldn’t help but feel something was off. I didn’t know who would have the audacity to fight an angel, or how he had gotten into Super Smash Bros. in the first place. I certainly wouldn’t have been able to hurt him in a fight. It simply wasn’t something I would have been willing to do.

If I ever got into a fight, that is. I thought I could probably take on Kirby. Or Pichu. Definitely Jigglypuff.

As Link and Marth set up a match against the Mario Bros., I leaned back and crossed my arms in front of me. “Must be nice fighting out there,” I muttered. “Test your skills against anyone and everyone else.” Mario and Luigi each put on a gold bracelet. It was a running theme I had no context for, and so didn’t bother wondering. Go with the flow.

“Aw, you don’t have to be shy!” Pit insisted. “Everyone else doesn’t seem to mind who goes up there. You can go up there, too!”

I bit my bottom lip. So many eyes watching my every move. Judging every wrong move or misstep. Suddenly, what little enthusiasm I had fled. “I don’t know...”

“It’ll be fine!” He pumped a fist into the air. “I can even help you!”  
“Actually, Pit, you can’t. The training rooms are closed off to non-participants.”  
As sudden as his declaration was, his face fell almost as fast. Probably talking with Palutena again. Lady Palutena. Had to get the title right. I waited patiently for his thousand-yard stare to abate. As I did, I watched the screen. The four Smashers couldn’t seem to decide between the Temple stage or something called Mushroomy Kingdom.  
“I’ll be speaking with Master Hand later, but for now, you still have a time limit.”  
“Puyo!” I looked down and found Kirby with another offering. This time it was a white bag, the top folded down tight.  
“You have one more day down there before you’re required to leave.”  
“Oh, thank you,” I said, and took it from him. I unfurled the top, and peeked into the bag. Within laid a bounty of chocolate donuts, small bite-sized things that smelled oven fresh instead of just freshly opened after spending a week sealed up.  
“While you are down there though, I would like you to ask Ven how often she fights.”  
I still had my cookies, so I held onto the bag. Mario was conversing with Marth, the prince holding a finger to his chin in thought. The pose seemed to be popular. I immediately blamed anime. It was a good go-to for things like that.  
“We don’t know if she has any experience, and it would be best to know before she starts any training.”  
Finally, Pit spoke. “Oh. Yeah. That’s a good idea.” His eyes refocused. “So… Lady Palutena was wondering… Do you fight often?”

Had to admit, I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t entirely sure if he meant real life or video games, but… There was no reason that I couldn’t have some fun. “Almost every weekend,” I replied. “But I like RPGs better.”

“RPGs? As in role-playing games?” he asked.

“Yes!” I was practically vibrating in my seat. “I’m on Tales of Symphonia right now, and it’s _so_ cool! You’re basically on a quest to save the world and fulfill a prophecy. I mean, I haven’t played it in like two weeks, but it was getting pretty good until I got stuck trying to get the Efreet summon.” Then it dawned on me who I was talking to and where, and I felt my cheeks heat up.

Pit just chuckled good naturedly. “Sounds like fun! Wish I could go on a world-saving adventure!” He paused for a moment. The familiar synthetic cheering of an absent audience drew my attention back to the screen. It looked like the four had decided upon Mushroomy Kingdom.  
“Ah, but if the world needed saving, that would require it to be in danger in the first place.”  
Pit came back to us. “Yeah that...would be bad,” he said. “You’re right. I just want _some_ excitement, you know?”

I handed off the bag of mini chocolate donuts to Pit, and sat back.

The countdown started in the middle of a Mario-themed desert, and the battle began.

/-/

In the end, it was Marth who stood tall on the victory screen. I still had no idea how the Counter attack move functioned, but there may have been a moment when he used it successfully. I had no idea, the battle had been ridiculously chaotic and was only made worse by Mushroomy Kingdom being an autoscroller. Marth had dodged around bombs, jumped over fireballs, and kept the Mario Bros. back at the tip of his blade. Link was able to get some hits in, but with the brothers there, he had to split his attention three ways, and hadn’t been able to keep the edge.

Every time I thought Smash fights couldn’t get more awesome, they just did.

And just like last time, Pit and me geeked out over our favorite parts.

“Oh man, Link was so close!” he said. It was something of a cheer, despite the topic. The excitement of the fight was fresh and wasn’t about to leave us. “If that super scope hadn’t appeared, he would have totally had the match!”

I mimed holding the long gun, puttering and shaking my hands as if firing. Then I brought my hands back down, clenched into fists. “He just keep him hanging there until the stage moved on! That has to be the _worst_ way to lose.”

“That wasn’t as bad as the bumper, though. Poor Luigi...” He shook his head, and I nodded in agreement. The taller brother had been pinned between two columns with a bumper overhead. He never stood a chance.

“Then there was the party ball full of bombs,” I added. “I didn’t think anybody was going to get near them. That kind of party ball sucks! They blow up almost instantly in your face and what’s Luigi do? He throws his ray gun, and Marth crashes into all of them for an instant K.O.!”

“He went straight up, too! Ding!” he said cheerfully.

I snorted “Pfft” I chuckled. “He’s a real all-star now.” That got Pit going in his own fit of chuckles. I mentally chalked up a tally mark to laughs made for the day. You could never have too many smiles in one day, even if that meant inflicting puns on everybody.

“So,” I started, “what about the whole autoscroll thing? It looks like it makes the whole stage trickier than it should be.”

Pit regained his composure, though he didn’t stop grinning. “It looks all right,” he said. “It’s got to be really challenging to fight in, but you have to give props to the classics somehow!”

“Mm-hmm!” Idly, I wondered how he knew about games like Super Mario World and Super Mario Bros. 3. Did they have video games in heaven? How did that work out?

Why was I still questioning dream logic?

My hand suddenly felt lighter. Looking down I found that my bowl of tiny cookies and malted milk balls was missing.

“Pi!”

“Hey!” I jerked my head up towards my friend and found him looking at the end of our side of the bleachers. “Give that back!”

Well, the missing food made sense.

On the ground, Pichu laughed in the way only a Pokémon could, holding both my bowl and Pit’s bag of mini donuts. His little rhythmic taunt of ‘pi chu, pi chu’ was cute. Then he stuck his tongue out, gave a raspberry, and dashed away.

“Wait, no!” Pit growled in frustration, then vaulted over the low wall in front of us. “Get back here!”

He was maybe halfway to Pichu when I figured ‘why not?’. When in Rome, after all. Besides, there was no harm in following the next thread of the dream.

I followed the angel’s example, feeling a little thrill at doing something so unusual. I half-jogged, half-ran to the left exit where the other two had disappeared. “Wait up!” I called.

Around the corner, I spotted Pit dashing towards the manor-sized castle. Ahead of him was a small yellow and black blob, zipping between bushes, and generally being a nuisance. I started running again, intent on capturing the Pokémon and getting my cookies back.

“Pi chu, pi chu!” the chant came again. The small Pokémon quit hiding, and darted off towards the mansion, cutting across the lawn. I muffled a groan as I ran that way. I hated the thought of running after a fast Pokémon, but I wanted my chocolate!

Pichu stopped, and taunted Pit by waving around the donut bag. I kept along the stone path, hoping that Pichu’s stunt would give me time to get to the back patio before him. As I went, I kept an eye on where the thief was. He didn’t run as Pit leaned over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. He did, however, pour my snacks into the bag, take one of my cookies, wave it in the air, and eat it.

“Hey!” I yelled, slowing to a jog. “Get your own!”

“Pi chu, pi chu, pichu pichu pi chu!” I pouted. Going by the rhythm, I thought I understood what the Pokémon was saying.

_Catch me, catch me, betcha can't catch me!_

Oh, we were going to catch him, alright.

Pit got his breath back and started after Pichu again. The rodent picked up his ill-gotten gains in his mouth, and made a break for the back patio door. I was maybe 20 feet off when he jumped up to the door knob, and held on to it with his paws as it twisted down. The door gently moved open, and Pichu was in, door closed, before I got there.

Pit caught up, but was flagging again. And truth be told, so was I

It was weird, but funny. Why was I out of breath? I never lost my breath in a dream; I could jog or run forever.

Pit flashed a thumb’s up. “We’ll find him,” he panted, “don’t you worry!”

I could only nod in agreement. Frigging Pokémon had to be using quick attack. He just had to.

We trudged through the door, Pit first then me. So, he was the first to see Pichu sitting on top of Pikachu’s statue, merrily snacking away.

“Hey!” he shouted. I peeked over his wings in time to see Pichu get to his feet, mini donut bag gripped in his mouth. The bowl was nowhere to be seen, so Pichu had likely gotten rid of it at some point.

“Pi chu!” _Catch me!_

“Not this time!” Pit rushed forward with energy I didn’t know he even still had, and leaped at our thief. In true slapstick chase tradition, Pichu also jumped, and landed on the angel’s head before darting off to the door on the right. Pit stumbled forward and hit the Pikachu statue, though thankfully with his hands, not his head.

I jogged by Pit, grabbed his arm, and pulled him along with me.

The next room was a small library, every shelf brimming with books. I almost wanted to stay, but the sight of Pichu throwing the fricking styrofoam bowl into the fireplace stopped me. It had to have been in the bag the whole time. He gave a cheerful ‘pi’ and went off again into the next room.

And so it went. We would go into a new room, find Pichu either hiding behind some decoration or standing in plain sight while eating, then the little weirdo would leave us in the dust. He led us on from room to room, practically giving us a tour of half of the first floor. There was a sitting room, a TV room, a gaming room with a pool table, and yet another sitting room. There was also a bathroom, which Pichu decided would be great to enter and then spray us both down with a detachable shower head.

Occasionally we dipped into the hallway, and with as many turns as it had, getting lost was something that almost happened several times.

It kept going until finally, he flipped open the handle for a door clearly labeled ‘basement’. I paused for a moment, uncertain. Of all the things I had ever thought about big fancy schmancy houses, the basement was something I had never thought of. Was it a trap? Was Pichu working up to ambush us and pour donut crumbs all over our heads? How dark would it be?

“Come on, Ven!” Pit called out from down the stairs. “It’s fine! We’ve almost got him!” I shook my head clear of doubtful thoughts, and passed through the door.

The stairs were wooden and glossy. I had expected stone ones, chipped and cracked with age and use. It was odd the sort of attention given to mere basement stairs, but I wasn’t going to complain. There were wall lamps lighting the way down, and at the bottom was a large room, just as opulent as the ones above. A square, rich red carpet spread out over the floor, and there were so many doors, I was afraid that I would get lost and never find a way out.

Pit scratched his head, and looked around. He hummed, looking at each door.

Then we heard it.

“Pi chu, pi chu, pi pi pichu!”

“There!” He ran up to a door that was slightly ajar and entered it. “Ha! I’ve got you now! There’s no escape!” I followed, cautiously. I didn’t want to chance Pichu getting away again and leading us through even more of the mansion. The stitch in my side was bad enough as it was. Peeking through the door, I spied as Pichu sat atop some machine or other. It had cords and flat, rectangular bricks, and two black cushioned boards. It sort of looked like an exercising machine. Slipping in and shutting the door behind me, I glanced around the room. There were half-bike things, mini-escalators, and various equipment with ropes, cords, and benches. But what really cemented the sort of area we were in were two things: treadmills, and in the very back: barbells.

We were in an actual gym!

Pichu continued to eat contentedly on top of the tall exercise equipment. Pit couldn’t jump up high enough to reach him, and for whatever reason didn’t try flying. I opened my mouth to ask why not, and had the first syllable out of my mouth when I remembered a little bit about birds, and how they needed an air current to get height. Maybe it was the same for him? Or maybe Pit was afraid of hitting his head on the ceiling? I really couldn’t tell.

But no, the problem was how to get Pichu and our food down without hurting him, or spilling our snacks.

A wise person would have gone back up to the buffet and nabbed more dessert. Or, barring that, the kitchen fridges. The problem was that I had the last of the malted milk balls, and last I saw, the Ice Climbers had taken the plate with the last of the tiny cookies.

This was not something that could be ignored or compromised on. We were going to get our food back!

My angel buddy started awkwardly climbing up the equipment, feet on the seat, as he tried reaching up to Pichu. In return, the little nuisance blew a raspberry at him. I crossed my arms and slowly approached. There was nothing light enough to throw at Pichu and not hurt him. There were some big exercise balls on a couple of racks at one end of the room, but I’d been hit in the face with tetherballs, footballs, and massive kickballs before. They hurt like heck, and I wasn’t about to inflict that on the little mouse, even if he was being a pain. I could’ve probably thrown pillows, but I hadn’t a clue where any of the bedrooms were, if any of them were occupied, or if I could get to one and back in time.

That was another thing. Time. We had until Pichu got bored or ate all the food before we failed. I wasn’t very good at estimating timing, but seeing how Pichu gleefully ate every bite of the cookies and donuts made me think that we didn’t have much to spare.

I was not a fan of timed missions. I still hadn’t gotten around to completing Majora’s Mask solely because of the countdown and the frigging Stone Temple.

I shook my hands, willing a pillow to pop into existence. Once again, nothing happened.

Pichu munched on a bit of chocolate donut. Pit lost his balance and fell onto the floor, groaning.

Alright. Time for some planning.

Not taking my sights off of the menace, I said, “Pit! We have to team up!”

“O-okay! So, what do we do?” he asked. I took a breath, about to explain my basic plan of him standing on my shoulders, when something better came to mind.

“We attack the tower,” I said, nodding gravely. “We will not let this Pichu get the best of us!” I raised a fist, like all strong, commanding leaders seemed to do. “We can’t even hesitate! Together we are stronger than anybody could be on their own, and we will topple that tower and get our snacks back!” I punctuated the impromptu speech by punching the air. It was silly, and a song was now stuck in my head, but by Pit’s proud grin I think it worked.

“Right!” he agreed, pumping his fist. Oh good gracious, what did this look like on the outside? “We won’t give up! Not ever!”

“Now!” I turned on my heel, and dramatically pointed at the exercise equipment. “Let’s knock that down!”

I ran at the ‘tower’, jumped, and crashed my weight into the back board. The thing tilted slightly, then Pit was there, having flung himself into the machine, too. The weight training thing tilted further back, but ultimately thumped back down.

Though not before scaring Pichu into abandoning his perch.

“After him!” I shouted. We scrambled off the weight equipment, and raced after the thief. Instead of going for the exit, thank goodness, he instead ran for the end of the room with various ropes, cords, and exercise balls.

“You go left, I’ll go right!” I said.

Pit curved around one of the mini-escalator machines. “Got it!” He was in charge of one half of the room, and I had the other. If Pichu was thinking about doubling back, he’d have a hard time now. I was a pretty good goalie among my classmates. There was no way I was letting that pint-sized scoundrel get away!

Pichu jumped over and through the scattered exercise equipment, evading us with a natural grace that only came with being so small and years of experience. He was faster than we ever would be, which was fine by me. If we gained an edge, he could easily go backwards and get to the exit door while we tried turning around, losing momentum.

Finally, we hit the wall. Pichu turned around, and looked between us, the donut bag in his mouth thoroughly wrinkled and with a couple of holes near the top.

“It’s the end of the line, Pichu!” said Pit. “Give it up!”

“You’re surrounded!” I chimed in, because why not? I felt a little giddy at the classical standoff. It was just one of those things you always saw characters doing, but could never do yourself, because when, exactly, would the opportunity ever come up?

Pichu looked back and forth between us. I positioned my feet so that I could have leap left or right if he came at me.

Pit reached out a hand. “Just hand over the chocolate...” he said. After the chase Pichu had led us on, I doubted he would give in.

Pichu whirled around and zipped up to a rack of balls. Before Pit or I could reach him, he headbutted it, and made the whole thing fall forward. Very suddenly, moving fast was not an option anymore as we became knee-deep in exercise balls. I picked one up and aimed at Pichu as he moved to the other rack. There was only one chance at success. A moment to see where he was going, and I threw the ball as hard as I could.

It hit another ball sitting on the second rack, and a few seconds later Pichu knocked that rack over, too.

“Pi!”

“Ouch!” Pit cried. I turned around quick to see him rubbing his nose. “That really smart!”

“Pi!” I moved my arms up, though I hadn’t fully turned back to Pichu. A red ball hit my hands, leaving them stinging.

I was really starting to get irritated.

Then a wadded up bag lightly hit my head. I watched as it fell to the crowded ground, empty. I looked up again to see Pichu casually munching on the last of Pit’s mini chocolate donuts, content with his theft.

The little ungrateful thief left us there, foodless and humiliated.

Somehow, I knew, I would get him back. He wouldn’t know when, he wouldn’t know how, but I would have my revenge!

Just, maybe after I wasn’t surrounded by exercise balls.


	5. How to Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nowhere near the halfway point yet and there's how many words? Sheesh.

Yoshi’s Island. A weird, colorful place full of danger and mystery. It was here Bowser was foiled for the very first time, and the Mario Bros. had been returned to their parents. And now, years later, Mario could revisit the place where his adventures truly began.

Or he could just stand there, bouncing in place, surrounded by Poké Balls.

I looked back down at the console’s smudged touchscreen. I could control the speed, item spawns, stage choice, the number and type of CPUs, how close the camera was, and how much damage the CPUs had, but I couldn’t figure out how to make them do anything other than stand there. I had tried tapping ‘help’, but all I got were the same readouts on-screen as there were on the console. Despite its name, it was useless.

Fall turned to winter. I tapped left for the item screen again, and spawned in a crate. All it did was nudge the Poké Balls which nudged the fake Mario. For a training room, this was a little more tame and a lot more lame than I thought it would be.

I tried imagining up a towel again. Again, the world refused to listen to me. Pichu hadn’t quite drenched us, but he had done a terrific job of making our clothes wet. Mine were drying, but they were uncomfortable to wear, and the world refused to bend to my will and give me a new set to change into.

Sighing, I went through all the options again. Speed was turned up to 1.5 from two-thirds, a couple of beam swords were dropped, and a second CPU was spawned in. This one was also Mario, but in his fire flower outfit.

Still had no idea what to do. I could enter the stage from the teleporter disc in front of the console, but I had no idea how I’d get back afterwards. It seemed as though two people were needed, one to enter and train, and another to be at the controls so the program could be escaped. I had no controller to press A-B-Start with either. Or was it A-B-Z-Start? Gah!

I pressed a giant red X in the upper right corner and quit out of the current stage. In a few seconds I had a list of all available stages to train in along with a picture and universe of origin. Bowser’s Castle wasn’t available, but Mushroomy Kingdom was and so were a few stages from Melee. Everything else was new and unfamiliar.

Frigate Orpheon looked eerie, but didn’t have any signs of fire, so that was good in my book. Norfair, however, reminded me of Brinstar so I mentally scratched that one off. No way Jose was I dipping a toe into a stage filled with rising lava. Or was it magma? Who actually cared?

New Pork City had a weird name, and slanted platforms. The gimmick of the stage wasn’t immediately obvious, but it couldn’t be that bad. Lylat Cruise sounded promising, and I couldn’t wait to see it in action.

So I chose it next along with another Mario CPU, and looked back up at the flat screen covering the wall. It wasn’t the Great Fox, but zooming through Lylat on the top of a ship was still awesome. Cornerian ships shot at Andross’ forces in an intense fire fight and the stage – _the ship_ – wove around the blasts expertly. This tiny ship flew over an ally ship and then a flipping _Androssian ship_ with not a single shot landing on it.

Peace. The battle was behind and forward lay a red, formless sector. It was brief, a moment to take a breath, and then the ship was going lightspeed, the black of space replaced with the green of a warp tunnel.

On the other side of the warp was black. Then the ship dove and my jaw dropped. Corneria. Fourth planet of the Lylat System. It was blue and white and so much like home, it stole my breath away. This was where the fight against Andross started. This was where you decided your course of adventure. The air around the ship burned as it entered the atmosphere. When it came out, it skimmed the tops of the clouds. There were no sudden turns or violent laser blasts. Just a cruise, as promised, above one of the most important planets in the Lylat solar system.

The dream didn’t ended. Wasn’t ending. It would be awesome to just reach through the screen and fall onto the ship, then through the air, and fall towards an alien planet. Or maybe someone would come get me, tell me that aliens had landed and wanted to wrestle. Or maybe mom would walk in, tell me to stop playing video games, and drag me to school where the dinosaur principal would make sure everyone was being taught their roars and args.

Eventually, the ship came up again, leaving Corneria’s atmosphere and zooming into another warp tunnel. It appeared back at the Cornerian-Androssian battle, so I looked back down at the touchscreen. Still no ability to make the CPU move. How was anyone supposed to train if the dummies did nothing? They could at least jump!

The door behind me squeaked open.

“Hey, Ven! I’m back!” Oh good, Pit. “And I found someone who knows this stuff!”

“Oh, good! So who -”

I turned around, and my voice died. Standing behind Pit in the doorway was the leader of Star Fox.

A scream tried to push its way out of my throat. Why? Why him? Why not anybody else? When I said we could need some help in figuring out how this thing worked, I didn’t think he’d go get one of my idols!

“Hey. So I heard you’re having trouble with the training console,” Fox said. I nodded numbly, feeling my face heat up. I stomped the ground hard to refocus myself, then partially turned back around to face the TV.

“I’ve been messing around with it,” I started, furiously _not_ thinking of who was behind me. “So far I’ve found out how to spawn items and CPUs, slow down and speed up time, and give damage to the computer opponents. But what really gets me is that I can’t figure out how anyone could get out of the training mode alone, or how to make the CPUs move. I’ve tried everything.” Footsteps approached on my left so I side-stepped to the right of the pedestal. I kept my stare on the ship, then looked down at the touchscreen as Fox tapped through the options.

He selected ‘CPUs’, then tapped the Mario face at the bottom. A small white bubble expanded up from it. ‘Damage’ was all there was to see.

“Keep saying he needs to get an instruction manual for this thing,” he muttered quickly. Then he spoke louder for us to hear, “Alright, so after you get a CPU, you get to this screen and tap its icon. Then you do this.” He put a finger to the bubble and tapped below ‘Damage’.

‘Damage’ zoomed up and away, and the word ‘Level’ took its place.  
  
I felt my eye twitch.

“Here you can choose a level from one to nine.” Pit made a sound of wonder on his other side. Fox tapped the bubble again. ‘Level’ went away and ‘Mode’ appeared. “This will let you change the robot’s behavior.” He tapped ‘Mode’ and another bubble expanded to the right. It said ‘Stop’, and in a few taps Fox went through ‘Walk’, ‘Jump’, ‘Run’, and ‘Attack’. He went back up to ‘Jump’, then tapped ‘Mode’ again. With that, the right bubble was sucked back into the first one. Fox then looked up and motioned at the screen. I followed his direction to see the fake Mario jumping in place. The ship’s evasive maneuvers caused his landings to change, but I didn’t quite care. The dummy was doing _something_ other than standing around, which was exactly what I wanted.  
“He’s a real jump man, now!”  
Pit hummed, like he was curious about something. I had to admit, despite the awful menu, the stuff was interesting.

“Jump man?” he asked. Or, okay, yeah, he could have been talking with Palutena again. It was hard determining when he did that.  
“Never mind, just pay attention.”  
Fox tapped below the CPU option again, and ‘Mode’ was switched to ‘Leave’. “The last option is ‘Leave’,” he said, “but you can’t use that unless there’s someone inside the simulation.”

Pit cradled his chin in one hand. His hair was still spiky and...was his toga dry? “Okay...but if you get in, how do you get out?” he asked.

“Whenever you want out just say ‘Computer: Exit’. If you’re asked to confirm, just say the word. You’ll be teleported out.” There was a brief moment of silence as I looked over the touchscreen. I could spawn in like a bunch of Poké Balls and home-run bats and pract--

“So… Did you want to try it out one-on-one?”

I heart stopped. It must have. I looked up. Fox was looking at me, waiting.

For an eternal second or four I said nothing. My jaw was on the floor. My brain was frozen. I didn’t even breathe because _Fox Mc-flipping-Cloud was offering to Smash!_

“Oh, uh, yeah! Heh heh…” Pit rubbed the back of his head while glancing away. “I... _might_ have asked if he wouldn’t mind...teaching...you? A little?”

Finally, I found my voice. “Wh-wh-whaaat?!” I didn’t squeak, I totally didn’t squeak.

“Relax,” Fox said, “It would mostly be an introduction to how things work around here. There aren’t many good ways to train without fighting a real opponent.”

I waved my hands frantically in front of my face. “Oh, n-no no no! I would be a disaster – _it_ would be a disaster! You’re famous and awesome and kick butt and I’m just some lowly city girl who’s never been in a fight before in my life – I wouldn’t last a minute!”

Fox’s mouth twitched, though whether that was a good or bad thing, I didn’t know. “So Pit told me,” he said. “You’re not the first one to come through here without knowing a thing about fighting. Dr. Mario and Mr. Game and Watch come from worlds where it isn’t needed. They wanted to Smash though, so they adapted what they knew into fighting moves. You can do that, too.”

“I...” I swallowed. That was...not what I was expecting. “I...uh...” I glanced off to the side at Pit. His huge smile and double thumbs up was enough to make a decision. “I’d – I would love to.”

Fox moved over to the wall where a line of golden bracelets were hung, and took down two. “Then let’s get started.”

/-/

One disorienting and floaty trip through the teleporter later, and I was at the surprisingly scenic Battlefield. Then I was falling towards a platform, flailing and screaming for all of two seconds before I made contact. Ground belly flop. Not recommended.

“Ow.” Groaning, I gradually pushed myself up.

“It gets better.” I tilted my head up, and saw Fox on the opposite platform. The platforms with glowing lines of blue and pink, with stone between. Crabapples, that was cool. Fox leisurely looked around the area. “This place has changed a lot,” he said. And he wasn’t kidding.

The Battlefield I knew was a black and purple, no environmental hazard area where you fought the Fighting Wire Frames. It existed in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to pay attention to but the fight.

What I saw was the exact opposite of that.

We were on a floating island, the moss-covered ruins of columns and arches decorating one side, and a small pond sitting on the other. A few patches of flowers and bushes grew here and there, but my gaze was drawn to a lone tree. It was maybe a foot thick and didn’t seem to be coming down anytime soon. A sort of silent guardian that would watch battles unfold here.

Between the tree and the fighting area was a circle with a single pillar of stone jutting out of it. It took a moment for me to realize that it was a sundial. Below the island, stone and grassy hills spread out in all directions, and a ring of distant mountains isolated the place far from prying eyes.

It felt a little like home.

“Where’d that tree come from?” I asked. “It’s all so beautiful!”

Fox shrugged. “I guess Master Hand wanted to make this place more interesting.” He stepped off of his platform, and landed on the solid stone path below. “Come on down.”

So I did, sitting on the edge and inching myself off until I was hanging by my arms, and then my fingers. I dropped the rest of the distance to the ground, my bare feet hitting smooth stonework. “Oof.” Not a very graceful landing, but it worked.

“So you’ve never been in a fight, huh?” Fox asked me.

Getting right to it, then. I wasn’t sure whether to be proud of that fact or embarrassed. “Yeah.”

“Have you ever tried throwing a punch?” he asked. “Or kick?”

Against imaginary enemies and random stuff I had stacked up, oh yes. I was the very picture of a well-defined fighter. “Uh...yeah. I can,” I said instead. I put my fists up like one of those anime guys, fists inches apart in front of my stomach. I moved my feet into what I vaguely remembered from some action cartoon, one foot straight forward and the other angled perpendicular to it. Then I jerked my right elbow back, and swung my fist forward as quickly as I could, which in Smash Bros. was still pretty pathetic.

I did the action a couple more times before Fox interrupted.

“You don’t need to reel your arm back,” he said. “Keep it to the side, and just punch.”

I followed his advice and found that the punch was still as quick, but I wasn’t leaving myself as open. At that point, I brought my arms up parallel to each other in front of my face. It was something I’d seen in boxing matches a year or two back, and it was as good a position as any to use. I punched the air a few more times, my arm curving up from the new angle it was in. I had to admit, it was useful. Maybe I should have kept on watching those boxing matches instead of switching to wrestling.

Fox winced. “That’s a _little_ better,” he said carefully. I could hear the cringing restraint, like he knew I was a lost cause, or that I’d get slaughtered in a match. “Keep working on it, and maybe find someone who can help you with refining your technique.” Translation: you suck, get better. “So...what about kicking?”

I shrugged, feeling my face heat up again. “I, uh… I do it sometimes,” I muttered. I leaned to the side as far as I could before tipping over, and kicked the air. My foot came back down, and I tilted back to my starting position. I repeated the action, imagining a target in mid-air that I had to hit. Now this was something that I was proud of. This was something I’d practiced plenty of when I was bored, and went around the house collecting misplaced stuff. I would stack them all up, place something small on top, and attempt to knock off the top thing without disturbing the fragile tower.

I felt ridiculous doing the high kicks in front of someone, but it was something, at least.

“That’s good.” I shoved down the urge to squeal. Praise from the leader of Star Fox! “You’re a little too slow, however, and that leaves you open” - Fox crossed his arms - “but with some practice that can be a good attack.”

I couldn’t quite resist a tiny squeal as I hopped in place. High Kick: Fox approved! Now all I needed was a good body blow move, a quick head punch, and a long range laser weapon, and I’d be all set!

Well, not really. I still needed more than that, but the basics were good, right?

“Alright then.” Fox got into a fighting stance, feet parallel and to the side, hands open and flexing. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he gave the universal sign of ‘come on’. “Now, come at me,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Something in my chest and stomach fluttered. It was unreal, moreso than anything else that had happened all day. Waking up in front of a mansion, meeting my gaming idols, befriending an actual angel, having one of Princess Peach’s famous cakes, having an honest-to-goodness chase after a snack thief. All of it paled compared to having Fox McCloud, a veteran of not only space battles but Smash Bros. in general, telling me to come at him, fists swinging. His offer to Smash seemed so much more solid.

I didn’t move. I had been so gung-ho about fighting and lasers just a moment ago, but staring at Fox, ready and willing to spar… Suddenly, I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to hit him.

My fantasy fractured.

“Well? What’s up?”

I slightly curled in on myself, shoulders hunched, and knees bent. “What if I hurt you?” I asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Fox assured. He waved his hand. “Any damage you do can be undone. Literally. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

I continued to object. “But...you’ll still feel pain.”

“Yeah.” After a moment, Fox relaxed out of his stance, hand on his hip. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

I twiddled my thumbs, and looked off at the small pond. If I tried hard enough, maybe I could see a fish in there. I bit my bottom lip, thinking. I couldn’t hurt Fox. I could hurt a person. I could hit a sandbag, but there were none here. That left one thing then.

“Could I maybe...try hitting a computer?” Internally cringing at how small my voice got, I listened. To the slight wind, to the rustling of leaves. To the person Pit had been so nice to convince.

“Hmm… Yeah, sure. That could work.” A breath caught in my throat as I jerked my attention back to him. He wasn’t giving up!

_Trust your instincts!_

Loud and clear, Fox called out: “Computer: Summon Fighter Three.”

A couple seconds later, there was a copy of Mushroom Kingdom’s best hero standing between us.

My first thought at seeing it did not stay to myself. “It’s Mario.”

“Yep,” Fox concurred, “and all ready for practice.”

I sent a brief prayer that Pit would not make this CPU start jumping around or attacking me. That was absolutely the last thing I needed while standing in front of the fake Mario.

Mercifully, the CPU just stood there, dukes up, moving its arms up and down somewhat. It adjusted its hat, and went back to idling.

Fox gestured to the Mario clone. “Go ahead and hit it,” he said. “It’s not the real thing, so do whatever you want. It’s not going to bite you.”

I bit my lip again. It was better, certainly. I wouldn’t be striking an old favorite, and I could still get some practice in.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, and brought my arms up parallel. I was slightly taller than the Mario clone, but that was okay for the time being. I figured I could probably work on a Samus or Captain Falcon copy later on for high kicks.

My fist hit the fake Mario in the nose, making its eyes clench shut in pain and knocking it a half-step back. I repeated the motion, sometimes aiming at the forehead. I even threw in a straight kick to the gut that threw the CPU back a couple feet onto its back. Every hit made the doppelganger go farther and farther, little by little, until it was close to the edge of the stage. It stood there, always in its fighter’s stance, sometimes moving its cap, but always moving and staring straight ahead.

It looked so much like the actual Mario. Guilt clawed its way inside me, whispering foul things.

 _You hit something that looks just like him,_ it said. _Tsk, tsk. What does that say about you? Oh, they were right. Ven the hen is rotten._

I wondered, what would it be like to fall off the platform with no hope to help yourself back up? Would it hurt? The fear of falling forever until you fell ‘out of bounds’ wasn’t something I’d ever thought about. After all, you fall off, die, and revive on the Angelic Platform.

Maybe that wording wasn’t the best to dwell on. But I did.

The CPU had no feelings. I knew that. But still I didn’t hit it.

If it quacks like a duck, acts like a duck, looks like a duck...

I took a few deep breaths. My mouth was dry. It wasn’t him, but it shouldn’t have mattered. I would’ve never hit a clone of my parents or one of my friends. Not even for all the money in the world. So why should this be any different?

Why was it okay to punch a clone of a character, who’d I’d seen right upstairs at the outdoor theater? Why was it okay to harm a copy of someone I appreciated?

Why was I even here in the first place?

My stomach turned in knots. I suddenly didn’t want to be in the mansion. I didn’t want to be anywhere near there.

“-en? Hey! Are you listening?” I shook my head.

“Sorry, Fox,” I said. “Just...maybe we can do this later?” Much later. “Can we go back? Now?”

“What’s the matter?” he asked from behind me.

“Nothing!” I said quickly. “Just...don’t want to do this right now.”

“Well...alright,” Fox said, a little unsure. “If you really want to. Computer: Exit Fighters One and Two.”  
  
A voice, sounding little too excited to my ears, filled the air and made me jump. “Fighters One and Two to exit. Continue?”

“Well that’s different. Yes.”

There was a woosh of some sort behind me. With a handful of seconds left before I was gone, I smiled wryly at the Mario clone. “Let’s-a go,” I said, and then it was like the wind was knocked out of me. I was floating, but couldn’t see anything. Just as quick as I noted it, there was a pull at my naval, like something had been hooked in there and it was pulling me until it just...wasn’t.

I opened my eyes. I was back in the training room. Fox was talking to Falco by the doorway. Pit was standing directly in front of the short, square pedestal that was the console. I stepped off the teleporter, grabbing my wrist and slipping the little gold bracelet off of it.

“Hey!” greeted Pit. “So, how did it go?” I left the bracelet on the wall hook. “I mean, I could see what happened from here. That wasn’t bad for a first time! But uh...why did you stop?”

Disgust and anxiety roiled around in my gut. I wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. How was I supposed to when punching your brother’s lights out was actually normal around here?

Maybe just putting things into his perspective would work?

I turned from the wall and faced Pit, looking him in the eye. “Would you ev-”

“Krys-!” I glanced in the direction of Team Star Fox. Fox was covering his mouth. A second later he was whispering furiously to his ally about something or other. My best guess was that Fox had meant Krystal. Though what that meant, I had no idea. Krystal in Smash Bros. perhaps?

I shoved that thought away and packed it into the back of my mind. I didn’t need to think about that, or any of the consequences her presence would have.

“Right.” I turned back to Pit. Down to brass tacks. “Would you ever hit a copy of your goddess?” I asked quietly.  
  
He immediately winced and backed away like he was dodging a haymaker to the face. A look of horror overcame him. “No! Never!”

I nodded, expecting as much. “It’s not the same, but...” My gaze fell to the shiny black floor and I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I can’t hit people that I respect.” I’d have liked to have said not even in a dream, but that shipped had sailed.

“Oh… Wow. That’s...”

“Wait, what? Kid, are you serious?” I snapped my head up. The ace pilot was still at the doorway, but he had stepped into the room as opposed to just standing outside of it. “Those computer things don’t need your respect. They’re made to test out your moves and be launched into space. You’re wasting your time feeling anything for them.”

There was a lot I could’ve said to that. I could have made a snide comment about respecting a CPU of him rather than the real deal. I could have pointed out the differences between the two of us. I could have screamed that he was part of a dream so he didn’t matter. But I did none of that. The whole training mode thing had sapped my good mood and willingness to banter.

Instead, I took a steadying breath, and released it. Arguing with him was largely pointless. It was all a dream, anyway. Didn’t know when it would end, but I could at least change my surroundings somewhat. “I’m just done with this place,” I said. I looked between the mercenaries and the angel. “How do I get out of here?”

Falco chimed in first. “Well, ya see, there are these things called stairs...”

I leveled a flat stare at him. The wisecrack comments were becoming annoying.

Fox rolled his eyes at his ally’s antics. “I don’t know how you could leave before the tournament starts,” he said. “We all have to go home sometime, but that’s only after it’s over with.”

I shook my head so fast, it hurt. That was unacceptable.

Fox crossed his arms. “I would say go talk with Master Hand, but I don’t think he’s taking visitors.”

Of course not. Because that would be too easy! My foot was tapping. I didn’t know when it started, and I wasn’t going to stop it. “So what do I do? I’m not about to sit around for a month.”

Falco rolled his eyes. “Kid, if you didn’t want to be here, then why did you come in the first place?”

“I didn’t!” I screamed. I meant to only shout, but my pitch had been higher. I quickly clapped my hands over my mouth. “Sorry,” I said instinctively.  
“Oh dear...”  
I could feel Fox and Pit staring at me, but I willfully ignored them even as I started blushing again.

Falco’s beak shut with an audible click. He shook his head slowly. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said.

I sighed heavily. “I know!” Practically vibrating with tension, I let the verbal dam burst. “I literally woke up outside the gates, in the middle of nowhere, in the clothes I slept in! I had no idea how I got there and no way to call home! It was cool at first. I love Smash Brothers, it’s one of the best games ever, and I loved talking with everyone, but...”  
“Pit, I need you to ask her about a Smash invitation. Did she have one?”  
“Right. Hey, Ven?” I flicked my gaze to Pit. He scratched a cheek, and said, “So...you had an invitation, right?”

I shook my head. “No,” I answered. “I never got one.”  
“Oh, no... It’s as I feared.”  
At that, the whole room seemed to freeze. All three of them seemed to tense up. Fox even rolled his hands into fists, and Pit’s wings flared a little behind him.

With a creeping chill, I remembered. The casual mention of invites from Sonic and the announcer. They hadn’t meant that people had been asked to come in general. They meant that the Smashers got actual invitations to come.  
“Ven is a non-combative human, and the only ones allowed at the mansion are Smashers. And you.”  
“Wait,” said Falco. “You never got a letter?

“No.” I swallowed. “I had no reason to get one.”  
“She’s not supposed to be here!”  
“What?!” Pit asked, eyes wide. “But that’s…! How?”  
“This must be Master Hand’s doing.”  
Fox made a sound, and crossed his arms. “Right then. It looks like-”

“Pichu pi!”

Fox stepped aside, and the little _thief_ and his evolutionary counterpart ran in. I shot a glare at the troublemaker. Pit and I had to clean up the exercise balls ourselves after the little fiasco in the gym. Jerk.  
“What’s this?”  
It only lasted a second. Pichu’s ears wilted, and he muttered a little. I imagined that he was saying ‘I’m sorry for what I put you two through. I am ashamed.’

Turning my attention back to Pikachu, I smiled. Then blinked. Then blinked again.

In Pikachu’s paws was a thin, white rectangle. My name was written in black ink on the front, the edges were stripped with gold, and in two opposite corners was the Smash emblem.  
“No...”  
Another chill crept down my neck and to my arms. This was too much not to be a coincidence. It was madness, and yet there it was.

An invite to the tournament.  
“Pit, change of plans.”  
I was so screwed.


	6. Escape from the City

Receiving the letter had been maddening. My first instinct had been to crumple it up into a ball like a bad rough draft. It didn’t seem like enough, however, so I approached Pichu. Ignoring the questions thrown my way, I crouched down and asked him to do just one little thing: destroy it. Thrown into a fire, soaked in water, electrified to ashes; I didn’t care. In return, I would forgive him for stealing my snacks earlier. Even sweetened the deal by throwing in a s’more if I could find the ingredients. Pichu tilted his head a bit before grabbing the crumpled letter and saluting me.

Watching the ball darken, crinkle, and turn brittle didn’t completely better my mood, but it did give some feeling of vindication.

I grimaced. That envelope, never mind the actual letter, made my teeth clench. It was proof positive that Master Hand didn’t want me walking away so easily.

Yet, that’s exactly what I planned.

I excused myself, waved off a concerned Pit, and left the training room in the basement. From there I wound my way through the corridor to the front doors, and went outside. The sun had moved across the sky since I had arrived, but was not even close to setting yet. I judged it to be maybe two or three o’clock. There would still be light for at least two more hours. Three, if I was lucky.

Scanning the field, I had hoped that something had changed. Sidewalks, streets, a hot air balloon. Anything. But there was still nothing. If I squinted at the distant line where sky met grass, I could imagine hills and perhaps even thin trees.

As much as I wanted to march right out there and leave, there were a few problems.

First, and most obviously, I could see nothing but grass and trees for miles. Getting anywhere before night wasn’t happening.

Second, I didn’t have a lot of energy. I couldn’t run more than half a minute straight before losing my breath and keeling over. I wouldn’t have been able to make such a long walk on foot, though I was sorely tempted to.

Third, I would need food. Not much of a problem since the kitchen seemed eternally stocked with how often it had been raided during the course of the day. I would also need a bag to put all that food in, but that was less worrisome. There was probably one lying around somewhere that I could take. You didn’t trap people some place against their will and expect them not to use your stuff in order to get away.

List in mind, I quickly strode back inside. I needed information, and I could only get it from a veteran. Well, most likely a veteran. Chances were that I’d have more luck asking one of the original twelve rather than anyone else. One of the twelve who actually spoke English and didn’t speak in grunts or their own name. Perfect. Easy.

Doubting that Fox was still in the basement, I went back to the outdoor theater. It was one of only a couple places where people seemed to gather and I didn’t want to disturb someone with their mouth full. The music and sounds of battle were a little quieter than the last time I had been outside, making hearing people easier. Somebody had gotten the memo that the volume might have been a bit too loud, it seemed. Unfortunately though, there were fewer people out than before. Kirby was noticeably missing, as were Fox and Captain Falcon.

That bit of strangeness stuck in my head. Where was he? I took a quick look around the stands, noting the distinct lack of the 64 veteran. No matter where I turned there was no musclebound man in blue spandex.

Actually, thinking back, I hadn’t seen the guy all day. How had he missed all the battles being staged? Captain Falcon had the fiercest competitive spirit out of everybody. He raced in an anti-grav death machine in space at insane speeds, for crying out loud! He had to be around somewhere.

Instead of the bounty hunter, however, my eyes caught something else. Black against white in the back of the stands and impossible to miss was Mr. Game and Watch. The retro resident of Flat Zone flipped side to side and waved, occasionally leaping into the air as if he were cheering.

I jerked my head away. It hurt my eyes to watch him abuse my notions of reality. He was a 2D figure in a 3D space. It wasn’t even like in _Paper Mario_ where when things flipped, something visibly happened. Mr. Game and Watch was blatantly turning on a dime _without actually turning!_ How did that even work?!

Yeah, no, even with a ten foot pole I wasn’t touching that physics defying issue. I still had a queue of problems that I was largely ignoring. Reality bending could wait until later. Much later.

At least my hunt for a vet was over. The mercenaries weren’t around, but Mario sure was. The plumber sat with his brother and a clapping Diddy in the front row, thankfully opposite of the section with Mr. Reality Bender. The brothers motioned towards the on-going battle, Luigi nodding to Mario. They were probably talking.

Approaching the stands, I ignored the screen and the sounds of DK mixing it up with the infamous Wario. The weird fat man was yet another newcomer and a nemesis of the long-standing Mushroom hero. Or something like that. His intentions were kind of vague to me. I didn’t much care why or how he had been chosen, though, so long as he and his crooked mustache kept away from me. Far, far away from me.

Closer to the good brothers, I waved. “Hey, Mario!”

The gaming icon of so many adventures stopped chatting with his brother and looked down at where I was. “Oh! Hello!” he said in a thick Italian accent. “You’re-a new around here, aren’t you?” I nodded, clenching my hands by my sides. The urge to apologize for interrupting and clam up rose up. I shoved my hands into my pockets and swallowed hard, stamping the instinct down. Now was _not_ the time to shy away.

The words came out in a rush. “Yeah, yeah, yeah...” I winced. I didn’t need to start out on a bad foot by being dismissive. That was a one way ticket to being closed out by everyone. “Sorry. Bad day,” I said, grimacing. “Started out good though.”

“Oh, no,” he replied, and he honestly sounded sympathetic. His eyebrows knitted together. “Does it have to-a do with Pichu?”

There was a distinctive sound of an ape passing the stage boundaries with a distressed cry. Diddy screeched and hopped from one foot to another. He hooted something or other at the screen. I almost expected him to take his hat off and stomp on it.

“Uh...” I looked away from the spectacle and swallowed. Right. Pichu. People had seen Pit and me running after the little hooligan. Of course they had. We hadn’t exactly been subtle, but then again, neither had Pichu. It made sense that would be the first thing people thought of when they heard something was wrong. “Not really,” I admitted. “We caught up to him, but he ate our food and threw exercise balls at us.” And I was rambling to _the_ Mario. What kind of idiot did that? I took a breath and let it out, trying to steady my nerves. Mouth drying, I barreled on. “But that’s not important. I’m here because I was wondering if there was any way out of here? Or are we all stuck at the mansion or...?”

Mario rubbed his chin, humming. “I did-a hear of a new place. Smash City, I think. You could-a reach it by-a using one of the telepads behind-a the theater.” Mario pointed towards the main screen and whatever was beyond it. Donkey Kong backhanded Wario into a Temple wall and played a little game of racket ball. Without a racket. Despite my recent grievances, I found myself grinning. As soon I realized it, I schooled my face into something more neutral.

Then the edges of my mouth twitched upwards. Tried as I might, I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. There was just something oddly engrossing about seeing the weird man bounce off the tunnel walls like a bloated tennis ball.

“It’s-a on the road to Icicle Mountain,” Mario said. “You can’t-a miss it.”

I smiled a little. The stage was an actual mountain here! That I didn’t have to climb! And Smash City... That was the place Zelda and Ness had gone off to. Maybe the situation wasn’t as hopeless as I’d thought?

“Thank you, Mario.” I forced my foot to stop tapping. Couldn’t even pin whenever that had started. “You have a good one!”

Mario bobbed his head. “You, too,” he said. “Good-a luck!”

I waved goodbye and turned around to leave. I passed the stands, leaving through the closest exit, and took a moment to eye the branching paths. There were the obvious two going left and right, looping around the theater, but there was a third breaking off from the circle. It curved off through the grass, winding around patches of flowers and thin trees. Unlike the two gardens, there was barely any symmetry to be found on the meandering path. The flowers seemed to be growing wild and unchecked instead of being trimmed and put into order. The trees were tied to thick sticks in the ground and scattered with no obvious rhyme or reason. It was almost kind of natural looking if you tilted your head at a certain angle. Maybe with some rocks and an actual worn path the effect would’ve been better.

The stone path ended at a little opening in the forest. Where the trees parted there was a wooden gateway of sorts proclaiming ‘Forest Village’ at the top. I guessed it made sense that there was an alternate place for Smashers to stay. Link grew up in the woods and Donkey Kong probably didn’t want to be cooped up in a white walled room. Maybe some Pokémon even lived there.

Except for Mewtwo. I couldn’t imagine him sitting in a village when he could be literally anywhere else.

Although… Speaking of, I hadn’t really seen him around either. I had caught a glimpse of him off to the side at the theater earlier on, but that was it. Or at least I thought I had. He was proving to be as elusive as the Captain. It was a tiny bit worrying.

I started walking again. Maybe the psychic Pokémon just preferred to be alone? No one went into a deep, dark cave infested with high level Pokémon just for a good laugh.

Yeah. That was probably it.

Curving around the theater gave way to a grand view of the mountain. I had only seen the peak before then later ignored it in favor of chasing Pichu, but without anything to block the way, it was amazing. The base spread out so far that the forest hid part of it to the east and even more trees blocked the western side off in the distance. It started out brown and grey at the bottom, then transitioned to blue and white from the snow at the top.

But all of that paled in comparison to the obscenely wide crack right smack in the middle of the mountain. It was as if a giant ax had been slammed against it, biting into the rock and leaving a gaping wound behind.

I swallowed. A giant ax or a mad Hand. Either way I didn’t want to know.

As I watched, something moved somewhere higher up in the snow. I squinted, trying to make out what it was, but couldn’t find whatever it was again. The snow must have shifted, I figured. That was it.

After all, what else could it have been? An actual polar bear with shades? Please.

Eventually, I couldn’t ignore the itch to move any longer. The telepads were just where Mario promised. There were two pairs, one on each side of the path heading for the mountain. The glass and metal discs were large enough that three or four people could stand on just one if they didn’t mind being squished together. The discs sat atop slabs of steel and between each set of telepads was a steel beam sticking out of the platform.

My heart thudded in my chest. Such wonderful futuristic technology and they had put it outside? Exposed?! Why wasn’t it indoors in a special dome? If somebody teleported in during a rain storm, would the raindrops be fused inside of the person coming through?

I slapped both hands over my eyes and dragged them down. Video game logic. It was better not to think about it.

Looking closer, I found that the beams were actually consoles with a small screen and a number of buttons beside it. Words lit up on the screen.

‘One person per telepad, please.’

I hummed. So much for mass teleportation. Then again, I didn’t think anybody wanted to end up spliced together like in _The Fly_.

I pressed the arrow buttons, testing them mostly. A still image of a coliseum surrounded by other normal buildings slid into view. Below it read ‘Smash City’. I pressed one of the arrows again and the picture changed to a flat platform with stands off in the background. My mouth hung open. It reminded me of Pokémon Stadium and the name matched. ‘Stadium’.

I couldn’t believe it. There was more than one destination? No, I had to focus. There was only one place I had to go, and I had already seen it. I just had to focus and press back. Just...press back.

I hit the right arrow button. The stadium slid away and in its place came a beautiful lake surrounded by trees. It was aptly named ‘The Lake’. I blinked. It could have been anywhere in the world. Nothing stood out as distinctive or noteworthy. The large body of water was simply...there. Another press, and the lake picture slid out in exchange for a grey question mark. ‘The Zoo’ was also greyed out at the bottom.

I frowned. What a disappointing ending. Not even an unavailable sign or a lock symbol. It couldn’t be helped, though.

I had no real interest in the other options so I switched to Smash City and pressed the big red button labeled ‘Ready!’ at the top.

The screen read ‘Please step onto the telepad’, and I obeyed. Sticking to the center, I kept my arms and legs as far away from the circle’s edges as possible. I had no delusions about what would happen if I had a limb sticking out during transport.

The disc lit up, little white motes of light floating up from it. My stomach fluttered. This was it. This was happening! Little fuzzy glowing balls of white rose from the platform next. There were maybe a dozen that I could see, and they quickly multiplied. Suddenly everything went white, the sounds of battle cut off, and I was being squeezed and pulled through a blank infinity and then my feet were on the glass again, and there was more color than I had been looking at a minute ago.

White lattice fenced in the area, and thick pillars held up the brown dome overhead. The floor was made of wooden planks, and two benches sat off at opposite sides of the telepads. I stepped off the circle and turned around to look at everything.

Beyond the lattice were trees, benches, sidewalks, and lamp posts. Further than that were buildings. Honest to goodness regular buildings. There were none whatsoever on only one side, yet opposite of that nothingness was an incredibly tall, rounded building far on the other side of the park. It must have been ten stories at minimum. Hazarding a guess, I pegged it as the stadium. Nothing else fit.

Glancing around the landing area again, a name finally clicked. A gazebo! That was it! I had never seen one up close, but I thought it was obscenely big. Everything was turning out to have that problem, and even though it made sense with the Smashers’ presence it still felt surreal.

Walking over to the steps, I couldn’t help but feel like something else was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but whatever it was put me on edge a lot like wandering around at night did.

I could not get out of the city fast enough.

At the bottom of the stairs and to the side was a board held up by a couple of posts in the ground. ‘Smash City’ it read at the top, and below that was a map. An enormous round building marked ‘Stadium’ dominated the center of it, connecting more than a handful of streets from all sides. I smiled a little. My assumption had been right on the money! Perhaps that meant the lake and zoo were around somewhere, too, for that matter? Ah who cared? I wasn’t stuck in the middle of the city!

The...very small city. The legend in one corner gave some reference for how big and far everything else was. A city was usually more than a few miles wide, but it looked entirely possible to get around most of Smash City while on foot. It was super weird.

I shook my head then skimmed the map again. Little icons for restaurants were scattered all over the place, as were a ton of numbers and labels. A quick glance at the legend helpfully pointed out what each number referred to. There were fairly normal points of interest: mini golf; rock climbing; hot-air balloons; a movie theater; laser tag; and a library. Then there was the trophy shop, the shooting gallery, and the Arwing simulator. I was itching to explore them all!

But I held back. I’d come to the city for a reason and it was not to run around and play games. I couldn’t be distracted. Master Hand wanted to keep me here. He wanted to keep me trapped under his thumb. The city was part of a gilded cage and I would not be kept prisoner!

My foot was tapping again. I stopped, took a deep breath, and collected myself. I needed a plan. Hotwiring a car was right out, not that I knew how to at any rate. The city wasn’t very large, maybe the size of a small town, yet there were no obvious roads out of it. At each side the city just sort of cut off, making a rough square with no signs or indications of a highway. I would have settled for even an unpaved road!

I grimaced. Ugh. It was the mansion all over again. No clear way in or out and no car to even try driving away in. As much as I hated the idea, walking looked to be my only choice.

I closed my eyes and focused. A motorcycle with a helmet hanging off the handbar. A golf cart with a radio and a nitro boost engine. A frigging hover board. Easy to use, secure straps for the feet, and way faster than I could ever hope to run.

I opened my eyes and looked.

There was nothing. Not even a wheel

Dream world, you sucked!

Hoofing it to wherever it was then!

Sighing, I took one more look at the map. The little red dot indicating ‘you are here’ was set right smack dab in the middle of the park in the southern half of the map. The closest edge of the city was further down, bordering the end of the park at maybe a half mile away. Not a bad distance. It didn’t solve my food or bed crisis, but those didn’t really matter if I was going to wake up anyways.

I took note of where the stadium was, and started down one of the divergent paths away from it. I wouldn’t allow myself to be pushed around. Not in my dreams. Not when I had the ability to _do_ something.

So I walked. The park was pretty with plenty of distractions set up along the winding path. Beautiful fountains with statues of koopas or round-topped alien things were spread out across the park. An empty concert hall of sorts had been built at the bottom of a slope, and plenty of seats were available all the way down. The sidewalk was briefly broken up by a wooden bridge spanning across a large pond. The occasional fish jumped out, teasing anybody who wanted to sit down and fish for awhile. It was peaceful and I found myself humming the tune of Kakariko Village.

Soon, the pavement came to an end. And I kept on walking.

Two steps in and I had to pause for a minute. To my everlasting surprise, the grass was soft and warm, almost unnaturally so. I dug my toes into the ground, basking in the strange feeling. For a moment, at least.

Continuing on, I kept on the lookout for anything suspicious. A large field was never _just_ a large field. There was always something hiding in it, or below it. I expected to find patches of crabgrass or a hidden anthill under the untrimmed grass. Perhaps even some sharp tacks or spike traps set up to injure unsuspecting adventurers.

But the grass remained benign. The ground stayed soft.

I kept humming.

Some time later, when I couldn’t ignore the stitch in my side anymore, I sat down. My lack of exercise was really biting me in the butt. My limit was thirty, maybe forty minutes usually before needing a break. Master Hand thought having someone like me around was a good idea? That hand had a few screws loose. The guy didn’t even have a head, so how did he have the brains to make decisions?

Dream logic. Had to quit with the thinking.

But I was in pain. It was going away, but I still felt the ache. I’d had a dream once where I’d been electrocuted and didn’t feel any of it. I saw it happen, saw the needles as they dug into my skin, and was numb to the whole process. I was used to running, flying, and all sorts of things without exertion or pain. So what was it about this particular dream that was different? Was it a side effect of being lucid?

Soon enough the stitch faded. I pushed myself back to my feet and went back to walking. There was nothing really to look at the whole time. It was the same old, same old. Just grass and trees. Sometimes, to mix things up, I would see a boulder or a group of flowers, but that was about it. I couldn’t even see a sign proclaiming: ‘You are now leaving Smash City’. I didn’t even see one welcoming people into the city to begin with.

I was thinking too much. I allowed my thoughts to wander and when the stitch reared its ugly head again, I took a break. There was no telling how far I had walked exactly, so I turned around to see far the city was.

The park exit was as clear as day.

I froze, ice shooting down my spine. It wasn’t even a mile away. But I had to have been further away. Two breaks, one hour, the park should have been a blob of green _at least_. Yet I could see the trees and the little featureless archway I had walked under at the edge of the sidewalk. It was madness! It was insane!

A little nibbling inkling of what the scene meant surfaced and was immediately shoved away. I didn’t need distractions. Negative thoughts were useless. Giving up was _not_ an option.

As soon as I was able to, I started walking again. Every so often I would look behind me to gauge my progress. The archway stayed where it was each time, never gaining any significant distance. I would pass rocks and lonely trees, yet when I turned back from the park I could see them far in front of me again. The same flower patches were memorized and passed by again.

The distant mountains never grew any closer, even when I kept my eyes straight ahead for two hours.

By the time the sky had faded from pink and purple to a star cast darkness, I marked the whole escape plan as a lost cause. It was the endless staircase from _Super Mario 64_ all over again. There was no way out.

That didn’t mean I was giving up. Just that I needed another plan.

Tired and thirsty, I trudged back through the park to the gazebo. If nothing else, I could at least fall asleep on one of the comfy-looking chairs Pichu had shown Pit and me earlier.

/-/

The theater was still being used when I got back. The volume was lower, however, presumable to not disturb anyone inside. I had no interest in watching another fight, though, so I followed the stone path back to the patio and went inside. It wasn’t as if I had some definite destination, so once I got past the door, I just kept walking.

My only plan to leave had gone up in smoke. Had there been an actual Arwing to pilot, I would have tried it. Nothing on the city map had indicated anything that could help me taking off. either. The closest had been the hot-air balloon rides, but those weren’t really fast. Besides, it was just as likely that the endless effect would extend to the balloon, too, so what was the point?

I stopped beside a small table in the main hall, and sat down on the floor. No matter how hard I tried, my head was empty of ideas. My thoughts went in circles, marking out avenues I didn’t have, ones I might have if nothing went wrong, and what limits I was up against.

Tick, tock, tick, tock, wakey wakey brainy!

I smacked the back of my head against the wall, hard. Tears pricked my eyes, but I didn’t shout in pain. It wouldn’t last, it just wouldn’t. It just wouldn’t!

Part of me wanted to fall asleep there, despite the discomfort. But no, if I did, someone would ask what was wrong and I just...didn’t want to really talk to anybody. I needed the bathroom, though, and I was still thirsty. The park lacked water fountains and I hadn’t seen any restrooms while walking around.

I stood up on unsteady feet and made for the bathroom that Pichu had graciously showed off earlier. It was far too fancy for a bathroom with a couple of a mirrors, and even a table with drawers. The light fixtures over the sink seemed unnecessary since there was already one in the ceiling. Maybe that was the point of being fancy: having redundant stuff.

After the pit stop, I headed for the kitchen. All I needed was something to drink and I’d be out in no time flat. No awkward questions, just raiding the fridge, thank you, bye.

I walked past Luigi, keeping my expression neutral and nodding at him as I went by. I got a nod back and as soon as he was out of sight, I let my face fall again.

People tended not to worry if everything seemed fine at first glance.

The kitchen had two entrances. I chose the one by the front door, not really wanting to waltz through the dining room. Considering the time, I recognized the chances of meeting anybody in the kitchen were pretty reasonable. If people weren’t eating in the dining room or smashing, then they were in there. I didn’t feel like waiting for the room to empty out though, so I took the handle and opened the door.

My luck seemed to be holding out for a change. The only ones in the kitchen were some Waddle Dees hard at work manning a couple stoves. Sweet scents wafted over me. Chocolate and strawberry stuck out through the sugary mix, inviting me to take a bite from whatever was being made.

Unfortunately, my appetite was practically nonexistent. I wandered over to a fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and skedaddled. I didn’t bother with any real food.

Ha ha. Real food...

My next and last stop was the reading room. The chairs in there had been plush with huge armrests and fluffy pillows. It was bound to be quiet, too, so I could actually get some sleep before coming up with something else in the morning. If I didn’t just wake up in my bed, anyways.

The little library had just one occupant, sitting by the fireplace. From where I entered, I could only see that their blonde hair was done up in a ponytail. I thought it was Princess Peach at first, but...no, her hair was fluffier and curlier. This person’s hair was straight and flat like gravity had taken a hold of it and wouldn’t let go. There was always Zelda but her hair was fuller. I didn’t think a single red hairband could keep it in check.

And...that was it. There weren’t very many females on the Smash Bros. roster, although...it could’ve been Link? I shook the thought away as quick as it came. Link had shorter hair and a cap. Of course it wasn’t him.

Out of candidates, I let the mystery go and opted to look around the shelves. I had to at least fake I was interested in reading if I was going to be hanging around.

The bookshelves were divided into sections based on Nintendo home worlds. The largest was Mushroom World followed by Hyrule and Donkey Kong Country. A few titles popped out at me as I aimlessly looked around, but nothing I was willing to read right away. _Holy Blades of the Goddesses’ Lands_ was something to look at later as was anything to do with the timelines of Hyrule. For years _Ocarina of Time_ ’s ending had me thinking that the whole game was happening all over again, until I heard otherwise. Then you had the very odd order of the original two games plus _A Link to the Past_ which was actually a prequel to the other two. The whole timeline was just a mess. Any sort of sense was welcome.

In the end, I took _Pictographs of Hyrule_ and _The Imprisoning War_ , and plunked down on a couch. I curled up against the large armrest and decorative Maxim Tomato pillow, bringing my legs up to get comfy.

I practically sank into the cushion. The couch partially swallowed me, and I stood back up with a squeak that certainly did not send the other occupant into quiet laughter.

Okay, it totally did. I rolled my eyes and decided to just use one of the big armchairs closer to the unlit fireplace. Sitting down in one, I knew immediately the choice had been for the better. The seat cushion was a little firmer and the armrests were far more comfier than the couch. A great place to relax and get some sleep. The second book was cracked open – literally as the spine popped – and I rested it on my thighs.

At some point when the legions of the Dark World invaded the Light World, I fell asleep.

/-/

Waking up, my first instinct was to check the time. Groaning, I turned and reached out to one side of the bed on auto pilot.

My hand met more blanket, not a plastic annoyance machine. Daylight was streaming in through a window, the blankets were the wrong color, and the alarm was nowhere to be seen.

Then my train of thought caught up. I was not in my bed. I wasn’t even in the reading room. I pushed myself up, eyeing the frankly oversized bed. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how I had gotten into it, or how I had gotten a watch strapped to my wrist. I had vague bits of memory of waking up in the middle of the night, but they were more like a half-forgotten dream about running away from the law rather than anything useful.

The sunlight was dim, but it was enough to make out the rest of the room. The theme seemed to be brown and green with a pinkish wallpaper to shake things up. The writing desk was a nice touch, but the yellow and orange couch was like half of the stuff I had seen already: unnecessary.

I scanned the room again, and paused. An armchair and couch with green cushions, a bookcase, a dresser, and a large square table. They were parts of the Ranch set from _Animal Crossing_ with other stuff thrown in like a wicker vanity, a small radio, and a TV.

Oh good gravy, Birdington. I hadn’t visited in five years, and I didn’t even want to think about all the weeds!

I groaned, rubbing my face. If only things just stopped and made sense for once, I’d have been grateful.

Undoing the watch’s leather strap, I got a closer look at it. It looked like the sort of fancy watch I’d seen businessmen wear sometimes. The face had markings for every second, and two sets of numbers poked through from behind the white surface, under the circulating hands. 02, 04. Month and day, maybe. The date didn’t make any sense, though, since I was sure it was still October.

It was nothing a little fiddling around couldn’t fix. I popped out one of the little knobs on the side with a fingernail, and gently twisted it.

The watch face suddenly faded to black with bright green text displayed on top of it.

 

I stared. That was not what I had been expecting. I turned the knob back the other way, and the tiny screen reverted back to a normal watch face. Forward sci-fi, back for normal. I lost track of time as I numbly twisted the little piece of metal and had a watch ask me what I wanted to do.

There were other knobs. Together there were three. I pulled out the one closer to the bottom on the same side and twisted it counterclockwise.

 

Progress! Very strange progress! I turned it again and clicked the knob back into the watch.

Nothing.

The last little bit above the other two refused to be lifted out, so I pressed it in.

The four options disappeared and another two took their place.

 

Neat. I clicked the top button to confirm, then twisted the menu off.

I had somehow acquired a watch that translated things. I didn’t know how or why, but the watch was mine, and I was keeping it.

Seven-fifty-two in the morning. I wasn’t making it to school. Maybe Master Hand excused me. ‘Bwahahahaha! Yes, hello, I am Master Hand. Please excuse Ven Brooks from classes today. Why? Because I have kidnapped her. Wait. Police? No no, no need! ...Oh drat it.’

I giggled a little at the thought, though it died pretty quick. I still needed to escape from the mansion. Obviously that had failed judging by the bed I was in. Although it wasn’t as if I had anywhere else to go at the end of day. Hopefully it wouldn’t be the same story twice in a row.

The day before had shown me that simply walking away wasn’t going to work. Going by how utterly devoid the field outside the mansion was, it was likely to be another endless loop if I tried leaving that way.

I was drawing blanks. Maybe if I could find an actual Arwing or something there was a chance, but as things were, I was stuck.

Sighing, I got out of bed. Watching some mind-numbing TV sounded good. It could take my mind off my problems for a while, at least.

Padding across the soft carpet, I found the power button for the old box on the bottom, then sat back on the comfy couch. Slowly, the screen brightened, though no sound came from it. There was nothing but darkness with a white blob in the middle. I figured the station was probably having trouble.

The picture came into focus, and my anger from the previous night reemerged in a rush.

Master Hand. He floated in what I had to assume was Final Destination, despite the missing platform. Stars whizzed past, but all I had eyes for the disembodied jerk.

“Ah, there we go.” It was the same tone and voice from the announcement the day before. “Hello, contestant. I am Master Hand, creator of the Smash Nexus, commander of reality. I’m sure you’ve read your invitation, so welcome to the Super Smash Brothers Tournament!” My teeth clenched together. “I’m sure your first day here was full of excitement. Heroes, villains, and monsters pitting their strengths against each other in battles of skill. Such impressive showings, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Shut up!”

I was ignored.

“The reason I’m sending this message is because of an unfortunate mishap. You see, it takes a certain amount of energy to bring forth each Smasher and their optional plus ones. It isn’t usually too much of an effort, but with you… I unfortunately exerted myself too much. My power has ebbed and there is currently not enough energy to send you home.”

“What?!” N-no!

“As such, your return home is currently impossible.”

My voice caught in my throat. No no _**no!**_ ****

Mom, no - I...

“Apologies. However, there is hope,” the hand continued. “I gain strength equal to the effort that Smashers put in. Since you no doubt want to leave as soon as possible, I’ll give you two choices: you may either compete in the tournament and fight your way through...or you may attempt to conquer Classic Mode. That way you would have multiple chances to succeed, instead of staking everything in one shot. The harder you fight, the more power I will gain, and the more certain you will be sent back.

“That is all. Have a good morning.”

The TV shut off.

When I finally found my voice, I screamed.


	7. Far Off Promise

I wasn’t very sure what I was feeling. I wanted to rip Master Hand down from his high horse and demand he send me home. I wanted to punch something and make it explode. I wanted nothing more to open my eyes and be in my room or at school, and have everything be nothing more than a dream.

I scratched behind Pikachu’s ear. The wall clock continued to tick. It was still morning, but I hadn’t left the bedroom since waking up. Lucario had showed up first, and I had seen flashes of a tall guy with blue hair and maybe even Pit. I couldn’t really remember. I had sobbed for a good few hours about what I had seen, practically screaming myself hoarse about Master Hand and his idiocy. I had calmed down some at one point, but someone had mentioned Marth going through Classic to see Master Hand and the water works started up all over again.

Sniffling, I switched to petting the electric type. I was an absolute mess. Not that I was going to get up and fix that. After all the hubbub, Pikachu and Pichu had stayed behind for moral support. They gave my hands something to do other than...anything I would regret.

Thoughts jumbled, I curled up near the end of the bed, and shut my eyes. I hoped to wake up to normalcy.

/-/

Someone knocked. I cracked my eyes open to see Pikachu hopping off the bed. The door knob softly clicked open, and people talked. Another person to look at me with pity. Another person to judge me.

I curled up into a tighter ball, the watch around my wrist pressing closer to my chest. A tiny part of me wanted to tear it off and toss it at the wall. The rest just wanted isolation.

A weight pressed down on the comforter near my head. “Ven, you have a visitor.” An undercurrent of ‘pika pikachu’ twisted with the words. I hummed quietly in acknowledgment.

Pichu popped into my field of vision. “It’s Lucario!” More double speak. More ‘pis’ than ‘chus’ “He brought food.”

Pikachu shot him a look. “Pichu...”

“Sorry.”

The strange overlap of English and Pokéspeak kept happening. I must’ve been going crazy or something, because Pokémon didn’t talk. Meowth and Mewtwo were the only exceptions. The watch could translate other languages, but it couldn’t possibly translate what Pokémon said.

“’m not hungry,” I murmured.

“What about talking?” asked Pikachu. It was easier to go with the Pokéspeak craziness than reject it.

I hummed negatively.

“If you don’t want to talk, then would you at least be willing to listen?” I tensed, not expecting Lucario to still be there. He wasn’t coming closer from the doorway, though, so that was a plus.

I said nothing. He took it as a go-ahead.

“Marth came back and confirmed it. Master Hand made the serious mistake of underestimating the toll it would take to transport you here, and now lacks the power to send you back.” I hugged myself tighter. Confirmation of my doom was _not_ something I needed. “It’s irresponsible.” He paused. “I know it’s hard to stand up again after being dealt such a heavy blow, but it’s not impossible. There are people who want to help you. They are offering to give you advice or training, should you want it. You are not alone.”

I whined. If I couldn’t punch a computerized fighter off the edge, how would I ever get the strength to do it to real people? For a given definition of ‘real’.

“There was a meeting among a good number of the people here.” I shuddered. Just great. The whole mansion knew what was up. They would look at me differently. No longer would I be Ven the Fanatic. I would be Ven the Pitiable. “As I understand it, there are some who are going to challenge Classic Mode to give Master Hand a piece of their minds.” I snorted. “There is a line.”

A sniffled through a soft, half-hearted laugh. More than a sigh, but it was all I had.

“There. You see?” he said gently. “Not everything is doom and gloom. I even have an offering put together by Princess Peach. It would have been here sooner, but there was an argument on how much junk food was appropriate.” I sniffled and laughed again a little louder. I imagined Pit insisting on a whole box of donuts. He probably would have, too.

“Okay,” I croaked. I pushed myself up and watched the door glide open a little wider from a crack. In walked Lucario with a wicker basket of colorful foods in his arms. There was definitely a donut or two in there mixed with apples, grapes, and bags of small round puffs, like the ones Pikachu and Pichu had eaten the day before.

Lucario set the basket down on an edge of the bed and carefully took out about half of the food before retrieving a small square cardboard box from the bottom. “I understand humans like pizza,” he said. “Surprisingly, we can get food delivered. One of Pit’s ideas.” He pointed looked at the non-healthy foodstuffs like the small container of bonbons and the bag of sugar cookies. “He had a lot of them.” I felt myself smile as I went for the bonbons. Very little could beat chocolate-coated ice cream.

Nothing was alright, but knowing I wasn’t the only one angry and that other people cared, enough to take action...it was nice.

/-/

Some time later, someone else knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” I asked. My voice was too soft, so I tried again. “Who is it?”

“It’s Ness,” came the answer. “Can I come in?” For a moment, I thought about sending him away. There were three Pokémon in the room already, and I wasn’t up for talking very much.

However, unlike most of the other Smashers, Ness was not a warrior or a prince or a king. He wasn’t even an adult. Going by the story he told, he just seemed like any other kid, only with psychic abilities. He was possibly one of the few people I could relate to.

I stopped biting my lip and pushed down my indecision. “Come in,” I said.

The door opened and allotted Ness entry.

“So...how are you doing?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Been better. Been _way_ better.” I fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “This whole thing is...erg!” Frustrated, I threw my hands up. “This is ridiculous! This is unfair! This is a blight upon everything fantasy stands for! I’m trapped in some stupid game with arbitrary rules, and for – for what?! One egomaniac made a mistake and now _I’m_ to pay for it? Who does he think he is? He’s no god. He’s not even a president! He’s a floating hand that apparently can’t measure when too much is too much!”

I breathed deeply, in and out. My vent was over, and the tension I had been trying to shove off and dance around had been dragged to the surface, almost literally screaming. Some of the stress had fled, but a good dosage of it was still there. The whole situation was bullpucky!

“Okay,” I said to the very quiet room. “I’m done.”

There was a moment where nobody said anything. Thankfully, Lucario broke the standstill.

“Right,” he said. “Ness. Was there anything else?”

“Yeah,” said Ness. “I brought this. I thought it could help.” I raised myself back up from the angst grave and paid attention to the kid.

In his hand was a yellow yo-yo. He handed it over to me, and like some precious treasure, I took it from him. On one side was a sticker of the weird Mr. Saturn, and on the other was a sticker of a cheep cheep.

“Is this yours?” I asked.

“No,” Ness answered. “I got it from the toy store. I still have mine.” He stuck a hand into one of his pockets and pulled out his regular old white and yellow yo-yo. ‘Super Nintendo 2008’ was printed on the edge and near the center was ‘Mother’. “I thought you might like it. They have all sorts of stuff down there, even baseball bats and slingshots.”

I had a brief thought of aiming down a wooden slingshot and firing at a hanging drum. Be the Link you know you can be, and all that jazz. I pushed the thought aside, though, because there was an issue rearing its ugly face and its name was currency.

“How did you buy it?” I asked, because there were multiple worlds and they couldn’t all have their money accepted equally in one place.

“Smash Coins,” Ness replied simply. “Everybody has some.”

Of course. Of course there would be a singular, exclusive currency. Why not?

“Okay. Thanks.”

I slipped the ring of string on my finger, and got up to test it out. I let the yo-yo fall and roll back up a few times, getting used to the feel and weight of it. While Ness’ was comically large, the one he had given me was smaller and more normal looking. It fit comfortably in my grip, and it didn’t take more than a flick of the wrist to make it return.

With a little more force, I flung it down and it hit my palm with equal strength on return. I kept going, using a little more force each time until finally the yo-yo reached the end of the twine and spun there. It stayed there for a moment, then the toy lost momentum and began turning sideways.

“So, do you like it?” asked Ness.

I started winding the string up. “I -” I paused. I was ready to say an automatic ‘yes’, but the joy for it wasn’t there. The yo-yo was yet another reminder of my situation. I wasn’t grateful for that. I wasn’t grateful for the slight push towards battling.

At the same time, though, the yo-yo was just a toy. I wasn’t meant to be a weapon like Ness’. It was just for fun.

“I do like it,” I said, relenting. “Thanks.” I rolled the yo-yo up and down again. “I haven’t used one of these in years.” I threw the yo-yo down and walked the dog. It didn’t go far on the carpet, and I had to bring it back up before the momentum ran out. “Let’s see...” I flung the toy and let it arc through the air in front of me. My knowledge of tricks only include three moves: walk the dog, the cradle, and around the world. The cradle was impossible for me especially since I barely remembered the moves for it, so I went for around the world, arcing the yo-yo over me from front to back.

The toy could have probably been used as a weapon. Not a good one considering the size, but a weapon nevertheless. An annoyance to evil everywhere, clipping chins and striking kneecaps, just like in elementary school. Before the bans anyway.

Although that raised a very important question. Would I really be willing to hurt Master Hand?

The answer came surprising quick, and without regret. _Yes._ Yes, I would hurt him. Yes, I would get home.

I rubbed my thumbs over the yo-yo. I would still have to hurt people to get to him, however. My grip tightened. There had to be another way.

/-/

Not too long after Ness, there came more knocking.

“Ven? May I come in?” It was Peach. Her gentle voice was impossible to mistake for anyone else.

My stomach turned. I didn’t need pity. But, as much as it pained me to admit, I needed help. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and it only served to further wither my appetite. But I had to, because dream or not, I would not be someone else’s play thing. I had enough of that going on at school, I did not need it anywhere else.

I took a gulp from some bottled water, then called out, “Come in.”

The door opened and Princess Peach of the Mushroom Kingdom came in bearing a smile and a tray with a tray of goodies. Little cupcakes were arranged in a neat circle around a teapot decorated with stars. A set of four teacups were spaced around the edges, one at each corner.

”Oh!” she gasped. “If I had known there would be more people, I would have brought more cups.” The door shut silently behind her as she made her way to the desk and placed the tray on it.

Lucario bowed to her, hands together, and she bowed back. When he stood back up he looked pointedly at the other Pokémon. Pichu was lying down on a pillow, lightly groaning to himself. The sugary puffs had been too much for the prankster, and he had crumpled into a ball. Pikachu was curled up on the bed getting his ears scratched by Ness. He looked up and grinned sheepishly.

He was so far from home and missed his own mom, but he wasn’t crying. He didn’t need to. He would go home at the end.

He also didn’t need to be in the room, but he’d gotten around to sharing stories about his neighbor Pokey and it kind of spiraled from there. Even heroes had bullies. Who knew?

“Would you like some tea?” the princess asked. “It will make you feel better.” I glanced at the teapot again, then bit my lip. I kind of didn’t want to. What kind of tea could make me feel about about anything? I was stuck! In a foreign world and I...and...

I felt tears spring up again. But...she wasn’t one to lie, I knew that much. She was a kind person who wouldn’t do that. I wasn’t an expert at tea, so I had no idea what it could do. Maybe it was magic tea?

Swallowing, I nodded. Maybe just a sip. If it didn’t do anything, I didn’t have to drink any more.

I studied the floor for a moment, then the scent of apples drifted through the air. Looking up, I found Peach with a teacup and saucer held out delicately.

I took the proffered cup of amber tea. Just a sip.

A little sweet. Not the least bit bitter or very strong. If she had no idea what I would like, I could see why she’d bring it over anything else. Not that knew what anything other than overly sweet tea was like.

How she ever got the tea to be so...unoffensive, I didn’t know. I was determined to find out one day. Just maybe when a cloud of dread wasn’t hovering over my head.

I stared down at the tea. Advice and training. It could’ve been pity, it could’ve been indignation. But it was what I needed.

/-/

“Come on...”

Brrrrrrt.

I tapped my foot.

Brrrrrrt.

A familiar voice. “Hello! You’ve reach-”

I snapped the borrowed cellphone shut, and flipped it back open again. My thumbs ran over the buttons with practiced ease.

And I waited.

Brrrrrrt.

/-/

Knock, knock. Same song, different dance.

“Hey! Uh… It’s Pit. I just wanted to let you know that Lady Palutena and me are on your side! A lot of Smashers are, actually. I don’t understand why Master Hand summoned you here, but if you don’t want to fight, then you shouldn’t have to.”

I left my tea on the tray and went to the door. I twisted the knob and found a startled angel.

“Uh-”

“Thank you,” I said, softly. “Can...can I hug you?”

“Uh...I guess?”

So I did.

Arms around his neck, I sniffled. “Thanks, Pit.”

/-/

Beep!

“Hey, mom, it’s Ven! I know you’re worried about me, but I’m okay. I’m a little stuck, but I’ve made a few friends who are going to help me out. I’ll see you as soon as I can! I love you! Bye.”

/-/

Another knock knock, another visitor.

I didn’t bother looking up. “Come in!” I had a three, a two, and an eight in my hand. Lucario was in the lead with a quiet smugness. He was three pair ahead of me, and two ahead of Peach and Pit. Ness was only a match behind the jackal, and I got the sense that he was only that close because he was psychic.

Heavy footsteps entered the room. Puzzled, I looked away from the game of go fish, and gasped.

Samus Aran, space bounty hunter extraordinaire, had deemed it worth her time to come visit.

“Uh...hi?” I squeaked. Whatever confidence I had gathered vanished. I didn’t know much about Samus other than her adventures involving aliens, there apparently being different suits she could wear, and her open secret of being a woman. She wasn’t a favorite to play as, but the way she carried herself demanded my respect.

She stretched out her arms, something clutched in her hands. When she didn’t make another move, I raised my hands under hers, and she dropped a little figure. It was herself, couched and posed with her arm cannon aimed to fire.

“I..I jus...” I tilted my head up, hoping to catch her eyes behind the visor. “Is this from Classic…?” I asked faintly.

She nodded, and gave me a thumb’s up.

I gaped for a moment, then shut my yap. “Thank you,” I whispered. She nodded again, sharper this time, then turned around and left. Pit whispered ‘whoa’ as she went back out the door, eyes switching to the little model.

Samus Aran had cleared Classic Mode and given me the reward trophy.

She was a human just like me, and won through the weapons and power of her suit.

I tried not to think of how much training she had to have had, and focused on the bright side: with enough fire power, anyone could win.

/-/

My visitors eventually left with promises to bring back their own trophies. To add to my collection apparently. I insisted they didn’t have to, but they were firm on the matter. As they went on their way, I got a head ruffle from Lucario and a reminder.

There wasn’t just one difficulty.

I took off the watch, set it on side table, and settled under the thick covers. I fell asleep in the stillness of a bedroom that wasn’t mine instead of to the comforting and quiet familiarity of late night traffic.

/-/

The next morning, after gathering myself together, I went downstairs. The bedroom had been on the top floor, so I had to find and go down a couple flights of stairs. Thankfully both were next to each other and it only took about ten minutes of wandering to find them in the first place and double check to make sure I could find my way back to the room. It wasn’t that far off, but I had taken the wrong way to get to the stairs in the first place.

Ignoring my itch to flat out run through the front doors and never stop, I forced myself to walk towards the kitchen. I passed through it and came into the dining room where, once again, there was plenty of choice of what to eat. Cereals, bacon, eggs, biscuits, pancakes, waffles, and more spread out on the table maybe half the household – mansionhold? – was already eating.

They were staring at me. A few, like Wario and Zelda, simply went back to eating. The rest did not.

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, pretending it was an oral presentation. I didn’t think I would’ve been able to get everything out without screwing up otherwise. “Before I get any sort of training or advice” - I took another bracing breath and opened my eyes - “I have some questions.”


	8. Like a Glint of Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgot just one detail last chapter. Whoops. It’s there now.
> 
> Font made by meetthesharpies.

As I soon learned, some of my fears were unfounded. For one, the AIs couldn’t actually feel pain. They were artificial in every way and only had one directive: to fight. It didn’t matter if they got blown up or set on fire, they would keep pushing until there were no other enemies. Second, they were essentially moving sandbags with abilities copied from each Smasher so people could safely practice or build up new strategies without an opponent knowing what they were doing.

Falling off the edge didn’t actually hurt either, as it turned out. Once you went out of bounds, you passed through a field that sent a splash of energy in the opposite direction. Opinions were mixed on what it felt like going through the barrier, though. Some said it was like being engulfed in cold air, while others said it was like getting the air knocked out of you, especially if you were going fast enough. Another suggested that it was like pins and needles were poking everywhere. You didn’t die, but the experience wasn’t something people generally looked forward to.

I asked after how advanced the AIs were, and if they could understand speech or emotions. No one was really sure, but those chiming in came to the conclusion that if the AIs heard anything, they ignored it, and if they had any emotion it was rage. Unforgivable, unbridled rage.

The consensus was so solid that not a single person cared to argue.

Which just left environmental hazards and actually hitting people as...problems.

In the brief lull of conversation, I finished off the last of my bacon. It was more than a little unreal to be surrounded by not only Star Fox, but also three different Links, the Mushroom Princess, Mario, and super ninja Sheik.

I said nothing about who he really was and so did nobody else.

“Okay, so hazards...” I wasn’t actually sure how to phrase ‘does it hurt to fall in lava’ sensitively because duh, yeah it would. The pause became a little uncomfortable, so I just went with whatever I could think of. “Those, uh… Any tips on how to dodge them? Like...on Brinstar I know you have to stay on the top platform when the lava gets high enough, and you can kind of see when it’s coming up by how bright everything gets. Are there any tips and tricks, or is it just...keeping aware of everything?”

There were nods all around. I stole another buttered biscuit from the basket while Fox spoke up. “Yeah. Keeping aware of your surroundings is the best you can do,” he said. “When you get used to how a stage works, it becomes easier. You can even predict the hazards a little.”

“Hey, kid,” Falco interrupted from across the table, pointing a fork at me, “that ain’t lava in Brinstar. It’s acid.”

“What,” I said, muffled. I swallowed my mouthful of food in one gulp. Ow.

“Yeah. Norfair’s the one with the lava,” he said casually.

I hit the table with my forehead, groaned, and stayed there.

What the freaking hell?

What the _freaking hell?!_ Acid? That was worse! That was so much worse!

Someone lightly patted my back. At a guess, I had to say it was Toon Link since Sheik was on my left and he was on my right.

I took a deep breath, and raised my head. “...Okay then,” I said, as if the ace pilot hadn’t just disabused me of something I had just _assumed_ for years. As if I wasn’t suddenly thinking of becoming the next Two-Face. I schooled my face as much as possible. “Keep aware, and one of the stages has _freaking acid._ Got it.”

Sighing, I took a sip of my milk. How much else didn’t I know? Granted, falling into acid wouldn’t be any better than lava, but I preferred knowing whether it was flesh-dissolving liquid or molten rock that was rising up.

I preferred not to touch either of them if I had any say in the matter, however.

Nothing else really came to mind about stage dangers. Nothing life-threatening, at least. As much as I wanted to bring up literally any other hazard and stall though, there was one last thing I had to ask about.

I crossed my arms and settled them on the table, leaning forward. “So… Master Hand said that the harder I fight, the better my chances are of getting home.” I dug my fingers into one of my forearms till it hurt. I noticed Marth and the Ice Climbers glancing in my direction briefly from down the table. Fantastic. “He also said that he gets power from people fighting in general.” I bit my cheek for a moment, staring at my platter of scrambled eggs and toast. “I… It’s stupid. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get around that. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but then what? He needs energy but how much is enough? What if one trip through Classic isn’t enough? What if I’m stuck here? What if…” _I never get home._ The words were stuck in my throat, unwilling to be dislodged. After a moment, I sighed heavily, and shook my head. Saying them out loud would have made them too real anyway. “It’s dumb.”

“Ven.” I peered up at Princess Peach. She was straightened in her seat, hands below the table and in her lap, as proper as could be. “There’s nothing wrong about not wanting to hurt other people. You’re following your heart. There’s no shame in that.”

I shrugged, looking away. Logically, yes, that was true, but it didn’t help me in getting any closer to home.

“No,” said Fox, his plate empty, “but it still won’t fix the problem.”

Falco clicked his tongue. “The only shame here,” he said, “is that I can’t take the Arwing straight to Master Hand.”

I resisted making a comment about Andross and Master Hand. The comparison was way too easy and way too entertaining.

“Regardless,” said Fox, ignoring the comment, “you'll need to gather the strength to fight, and soon. The tournament starts in five days but Classic Mode is open now. You need to decide how you’re going to approach this.”

I stared back down at my lukewarm breakfast. He was right. I had to do something, but what? Where did I start? I had no fighting skills, no raw magic, no psychic skills, no Pokémon to fight for me, no...anything. I had good grades, gaming experience, a ton of backstories and lore memorized, and some pretty good math skills. If Master Hand threw some algebra at me I could deal with it. A trivia-based deathmatch hosted by a cackling witch? Possibly. Bullets, swats, and smacks? Not even in my dreams apparently.

I was drawing a blank. There were still the offers for help, but how to even go about that? What did I need? What sort of skills or techniques did I require? Too many questions, not enough answers.

My stomach twisted. I… I wasn’t hungry anymore.

A thick, heavy pad patted my head twice, hard. It was sort of like how my uncle would, not quite grasping his strength while tipsy. Withholding my tongue, I looked behind me for the culprit.

Lavish robes of red, yellow, and white greeted me as did the large bill of King Dedede. He made the oddest cawing sound, but it wasn’t really a caw. It was sort of like hoarse laughter. More like a ‘wark’, but he was a penguin-bird thing so I settled on the word ‘caw’ no matter how unfitting it was.

“Thanks…” I said, unsure of why the gluttonous king of Popstar was even doing such a thing in the first place. He gave a weird ‘hork’ and raised his frankly enormous hammer and thumped it down over his shoulder. He raised his shoulder up and down a couple times, jiggling the hammer a little as he did. I stared, uncomprehending.

“I believe,” said Sheik, startling me with how he suddenly decided to start talking after being so silent almost all morning, “that he is offering his aid.”

I looked from the ninja then back up at the penguin, and he nodded in agreement.

Well then.

For a moment I was frozen with indecision. Accept? Decline? Then common sense popped back in and I found a response.

“Thanks, King Dedede,” I said, then replayed the reply back in my head because _what even was my life._ “I’ll keep it in mind.”

King Dedede warked or cawed or whatever he did, then turned around and waddled away towards the kitchen.

The incredulous giggles were hard to fight down, and lasted for a good few minutes before I regained control again.

The rest of breakfast was pretty uneventful. The Links conspired to do something or other with Toon’s telescope, the Fire Emblem boys spoke in hushed tones, Sheik somehow ate and drank through his mask, and Kirby gladly ate everything that hadn’t been claimed by anybody else.

I wasn’t sure what to do for the rest of the day. I wanted to run, shout, do _something_ that would make progress. Every minute that passed without something to ease my mind, I wound up tighter and tighter. There was Dedede’s offer, and if Lucario was to be believed others were willing to lend a hand too, but I was still stuck on what I actually needed to progress. Anyone could raise a sword or a hammer or a fist, but if there wasn’t enough focus or passion, the result would be...lackluster at best. Until that problem was solved and I figured out what I wanted, I couldn’t actually do anything productive.

Not waiting to explode, I took an aimless walk around the property. I followed the paths and crossed the lawn, uncaring of where I went just so long as I got rid of my nervous energy.

My feet first carried me to the castle I had seen while walking to the theater. The grass and flowers stopped some fifty feet or so from it, leaving only dirt and stones going forward. An empty moat had been dug out around the building, but there was no sign if it was going to be filled with water or lava any time soon. The...keep was bigger than a house, but not quite as big as the mansion. A red image of Bowser’s roaring face was painted on the front door, probably as a warning to all who came near and to show who lived there.

After that was the Pokémon Village, which was made up of a small clearing with a few small huts made of wood scattered about. In the center stood an apple tree, bearing fruit on just about every branch that I could see. The village seemed cozy, and the huts looked sturdy enough for Pokémon or a human to live in.

Somehow I doubted Mewtwo was staying there despite that.

A heavy weight suddenly landed on my head, making me bow and stumble.

“Pi!”

The familiar thief’s face came into view and before I knew it, Pichu had pressed something onto my nose, then leaped off of my head and onto the ground. He hit the dirt running, with Jigglypuff hot on his heels with a rollout from out of the tree.

I blinked then touched my nose and peeled off the sticker. It was a tiny thing, with a _Super Mario_ coin on it. I shrugged. It went straight onto my shirt since I hadn’t anywhere else to put it. I figured that maybe I could find room on the yo-yo for it later.

On my way out, a shoddy wooden sign pointed towards another route, one which wound through the trees rather than starting on the stone path. It didn’t go very deep into the forest, and the treehouse at the end was a nice find. According to the plaque nailed to the trunk it had already been claimed by DK and Diddy. Made sense. There was no way they would have been happy living in the mansion.

Icicle Mountain was a good ways away, but I tried walking there anyway. By the time I got goosebumps, I spotted yellow lights and what looked like a house closer to the base. When my ears started to hurt, I turned around. I guessed that either the Ice Climbers lived out there, or it was a good place to camp before anyone crazy decided to try conquering the mountain.

By the time I got back through the mansion doors, I was tired and thirsty. I grabbed another can of generic cola and made my way to the library. I picked up _Holy Blades of the Goddesses’ Lands_ and _Hyrule: A History of Light and Shadow_ and settled down on one of the huge armchairs by the fireplace. It wasn’t lit, but the chair faced away from both doors, which was all the privacy I needed.

/-/

Time passed. If anyone happened to be battling outside, or making a ruckus elsewhere in the mansion, I didn’t hear it. The room was seemingly soundproof, and only the ticking of a wall clock kept me company. A few times I heard a door open, but whoever came through usually left not long after. The creeping sense of needing to accomplish something kept coming back at those moments, and I had to go back a couple paragraphs to get back into whatever section I was at.

The door opened. I took a sip of the not-so-great tasting cola, and kept reading.

‘ _From the rubble of his defeat, the Great King of Evil rose. Again, he called upon the power of the Triforce of Power, and it answered him. His body shattered and in a burst of light, a beast was formed. With a mighty roar of ill omen, a ring of fire erupted from the ground, separating Princess Zelda and the hero._

‘ _This terrible creature with cloven feet and twisted tusks stared down the Hero of Time, and swung its blades through the air. The hero parried, but the beast’s strength surpassed his own and the Master Sword was forced out of his grip, landing outside_ _of_ _the flames._

‘ _Without the Blade of Evil’s Bane, the beast could not be defeated. However, hope was not lost. The hero was not defenseless. Light still persevered as he drew forth the mighty Megaton Hammer and rushed into battle.’_

The other door hadn’t opened, so I reread the passages again. I didn’t much mind, but I wished the person would get on with it and get out.

Heavy footsteps approached. They halted a little ways off from my chair. Not too close to bother me, but not far enough to completely ignore.

Blah, blah, blah, Ganondorf was a hulking pig and Link lost the Master Sword. I almost wished there had been some mention of Deku Nuts being used. It would’ve been a riot.

‘ _The beast gave a terrible howl, rending the sky with its scream. After a desperate struggle, the hero -’_

A piece of paper dropped onto the page I was on.

What?

I automatically tilted my head up to where I had last heard the footsteps, and was struck speechless.

Samus Aran.

Deigned to find me.

_Again._

She pointedly nodded at me, and I slowly turned back to the paper. Only the top half had anything on it, a black box full of words that seemed to have been printed as a picture.

I got only four words in before my attention was completely drawn in.

All partici–

I had fallen asleep on the chair. That was the only explanation for why I was reading the impossible. “I wouldn’t have to actually hurt anyone?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head no.

My mouth hung open, and slowly, it widened into a grin.

I didn’t have to actually fight anybody. Anybody real, at least. But I could leave! Freedom was mine! You couldn’t dam up a Brook, you just couldn’t!

Samus gave a two fingered salute, turned, and strode away, unwilling to wait for a verbal response.

But I needed to give one.

I turned and knelt on the chair, hands gripping the top to steady myself. “Wait!” I called, and to my surprise, she did. “Samus! Um… Look, I don’t know much about you. I mean, I know you’re a bounty hunter that fights aliens, and a lot people don’t actually know that you’re a woman. You were raised by the Chozo, and that’s how you got to be so awesome, and… You’ve really helped me out, more than most of the others around here so...thank you.”

Samus turned to the side, nodded, and gave a thumbs up. Then she was out the door, leaving me in silence again.

For the first time since receiving Master Hand’s asinine message, there was light at the end of the tunnel. Classic Mode was not an insurmountable mountain of guilt. All I had to do was punch a bunch of copies of my idols and friends to death.

My good mood faltered. This was gonna suck.

 


End file.
